


these tables are numbered

by okamiwind



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Burlesque Club, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, F/F, First Kiss, Found Family, Friendship, Genderswap, Happy Ending, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Romance, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:53:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 48,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23878714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okamiwind/pseuds/okamiwind
Summary: chanyeol needs a purpose, and she finds it in the middle of a burlesque club full of mythics.
Relationships: Kim Jongin | Kai/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 25
Kudos: 95
Collections: CHERRYKISSES FEST (Round 1)





	these tables are numbered

**Author's Note:**

> Kiss #30 written for Cherry Kisses Fest.

Human roommates are difficult, pixie roommates even more so. But a pixie who works nights? Game over, bitch. 

The lights are blaring and bright as Jongdae’s feather light wings carry her into Chanyeol’s room, and the pink, glittery cloud of perfume that follows her activates Chanyeol’s fight or flight response. 

“Where are my pasties?” Jongdae asks, her lyric soprano beautiful but also ear-splitting. “Where did you hide them?” 

“I didn’t _hide_ them,” Chanyeol says, and she buries her head under the pillow. “Leave me alone. I have to get up in, like, four hours.” 

“That’s your own fault,” Jongdae says, and she tucks her wings, lands on Chanyeol’s bed. It makes everything bounce. “Stop working terrible jobs.” 

“It’s not a terrible job.” She raises the pillow from her head, looks at Jongdae, her hair pin-curled and wrapped in a silk scarf. “It pays a lot.” She lowers the pillow again, hides from sight. 

“Just tell me where the pasties are, and you can go back to sleep, you giant buzzkill.” 

“Stop leaving your fucking _pasties_ everywhere,” Chanyeol groans. 

“Give it up, kid,” Jongdae sings. 

“In the freezer,” Chanyeol sighs, and she squeezes the pillow tighter around her ears. 

“Bitch,” Jongdae laughs, and then the lights flick off, the cloud of magicked perfume dissipating as Jongdae leaves for the evening. 

Chanyeol tries her level best to fall back to sleep as she struggles to get the cloying scent of cotton candy out of her nose.  
  


❈

She works at the blood collection center from four until two. Ever since she graduated, she’s worked odd jobs, never quite finding where she fits in the world. Chanyeol met Jongdae at a Human-Mythics Alliance meeting back in college, and they’ve lived together ever since. Chanyeol just wishes that there was something special about her the way there’s something special about Jongdae. Something remarkable. Something good.

Chanyeol clocks in two minutes past four, slipping past the metal detectors, her Keds padding across the clean white tile. The whole building smells like antiseptic, and Chanyeol hates that smell in the early autumn mornings, but she wasn’t lying to Jongdae: the pay is great. She’ll suffer through long hours and unfortunate odors. 

The whole center looks exceedingly sterile, and for that, she is grateful. She’s never been crazy about blood, but luckily, all she has to do is check people in at one of the welcome desks. 

On her walk in, she studies the rest of the center running like a well-oiled machine. Humans and vampires alike are checked in from the cavernous waiting room, and they are filtered into either a donation room or one of the distribution rooms, depending on their individual need: money or blood. 

Chanyeol sits down, still rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and she logs in. She’s got her computer, she’s got her bottle of hand sanitizer, she’s got her breakfast- _cum_ -lunch tucked away in her bag, and she’s ready to go. 

She gets through a couple hours before her name is called. Chanyeol looks up from her phone, sees her superior, a male vampire in his expertly tailored suit, clean and supremely handsome. If Chanyeol was interested in such a thing, which she isn’t. She’s pretty much all about girls. Even still, she feels a little inferior there, in her pale blue oxford and charcoal pencil skirt from Target. 

“Yes?” Chanyeol answers, and she tucks the lock of her hair that’s fallen from her bun back behind her ear in an attempt to look more put-together. 

“Can I have a word with you?” He puts his hands in his pockets in what can only be described as a humanizing gesture. “In my office?” 

Fear immediately lances through Chanyeol like a wooden stake, and she squeezes her eyes shut so hard that she sees little white stars streaking across black. She stands, brushes down the sides of her skirt, and smiles as best as she can. 

“Sure,” she says. 

Her supervisor smiles at her tightly, turning on his heel, and he moves back through the waiting area back to where the administrative offices are. Chanyeol follows him, and if she weren’t so tall, she thinks it might be difficult to keep up with his pace. But Chanyeol’s got stupidly long legs, ones that always helped keep her on the varsity basketball team in middle school and high school, so she keeps up just fine, follows him back into his pristine office. 

“Take a seat, please,” the supervisor says, and Chanyeol folds her hands across her lap as she sits in the seat opposite his, the desk between them. “Chanyeol, I’m afraid that we’re going to have to let you go.” 

The shell shock is immediate, and it ripples through her. Sure, she knew they were in the process of downsizing because of budgetary concerns, and sure, she knew she wasn’t the most _expert_ or _professional_ at her job, but she was… she was serviceable, wasn’t she? She was normal, wasn’t she? 

“I think you are an excellent employee, and on behalf of the company, I would like to extend my most sincere thanks for the past year of service,” he says, and Chanyeol feels her eyes begin to water against her wishes. She reaches up, brushes the tears away, and the supervisor surreptitiously slides forward a box of tissues. 

Furious with herself, she grabs one, dots the stragglers away with the corner, and then crumples it up in her hand. She barely hears the rest of the meeting, but within the next hour, she is out of the building, lunch bag in hand.  
  


❈

On the whole, the morning is less than ideal.

Chanyeol walks back into the apartment, thinking that, at the very least, she’ll have Jongdae’s shoulder to cry on, but when she gets back, there is no one but her. She immediately steps out of her Keds, padding to her bathroom. As she tearfully strips her clothes from her body, she tries to get it together, tries to make the tears hang back in her eyes. She’s stronger than this. She’s better than this. 

Chanyeol steps into ice cold water as she cries, as she realizes _No, I’m not stronger than this, and I’m definitely not better._

Eventually, she gets all her tears out, and she turns the handle, warms herself up, washing her face clean of salt. She’ll find something else. She has to. Otherwise, she’ll have to move, and she doesn’t want that. Jongdae… she’s a pain in Chanyeol’s ass, but she wouldn’t want it any other way. She loves her. Doesn’t want anything besides this. 

She shuts off the shower, steps out, wraps herself in the softest towel she owns. She dresses herself in sweats, sits on the couch, and wiggles in her seat, settling in for a night of wallowing. 

Chanyeol orders food, greasy shit that she normally doesn’t allow herself. She eats her chicken on the couch while watching old episodes of _We Bare Bears_. It does the job, makes her forget a little about the shitty mood she’s in, about the shitty _situation_ she’s in. 

Jongdae’s name pops up on her phone around five, and Chanyeol steels herself, wipes her hands off on her pajama pants before answering. 

“Hi,” Chanyeol says weakly. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I got fired,” Chanyeol answers, and even saying the words brings back a wave of emotion that is impossible to keep her head above. She realizes how choked up she sounds immediately, tries to dial it back a few notches. “Sorry, sorry, what were you calling for?” 

“I was just gonna… fuck it, it doesn’t matter,” Jongdae says. “You should come out tonight. I’m working, but I wanna take care of you. You have to come to me. I’m sorry. Make it up to you with well drinks.” 

“Ah,” Chanyeol says. She’s never been to the burlesque club where Jongdae works before. Chanyeol is too awkward. Too boyish. Too… too everything. Not enough of the good stuff. It’s way too intimidating. “I don’t know.” 

“Come on,” Jongdae needles sweetly. “You need cheering up. I can’t do that from afar!” 

“It’s fine.” She sniffs. “I’m good.” 

“Come tonight,” Jongdae screeches. “All your liquor! On the house, baby!” 

“You can’t do that,” Chanyeol says pitifully. 

“I can do whatever I want.” There are threads of laughter in the background, peals of it like ringing bells, and Chanyeol feels incredibly lonely at that moment. “Come on. Come.” 

“I should look for another job,” Chanyeol says, and she wipes her face on her sleeve. “I can’t afford to be, like, unemployed and not looking.” 

“You’ll find something soon, and you’ll get started on the search _tomorrow_ ,” Jongdae says, voice soft and sweet, “but tonight is for sulking. Come to the club. I swear, it’ll make you feel better.” 

Chanyeol turns the offer over in her hand. Jongdae is flighty sometimes, but she’s right. There won’t be much Chanyeol can do tonight. Tomorrow is another day. Tonight… 

“Fine,” Chanyeol says. “What should I wear?” 

“Something cute for a change!” Jongdae says. “I’m going to the club straight from dinner, so I’ll meet you there. Muah, muah, muah! I love you, bitch!” 

The line goes dead immediately after, and Chanyeol sighs, wipes her face again with her sleeve. She pulls up the camera on her phone, flips it to selfie mode, and stares into her own eyes, puffy and red. Sighing, she leaps out of bed, heads to her closet. Jongdae’s got good style, and all her friends probably do too. If she doesn’t wanna look out of place, then she supposes she better put a little effort in.  
  


❈

Generally speaking, Chanyeol is not good at dressing herself. She doesn’t feel like herself in tight clothing, prefers to wear basketball shorts and a sleeveless tank. She likes sports bras. She likes being comfortable. But Jongdae said to look cute for a change, so Chanyeol will do her level best.

She brushes out all the tangles from her hair, and as she looks at herself in the mirror, she realizes that she needs it cut soon. It’s hanging far past her shoulders now, mousy brown and entirely average. Chanyeol just wants it long enough to throw up into a ponytail, but now it's getting out of hand. The most she learned how to do was a French braid, and that was back during her sleep-away soccer camp in the fifth grade. She tucks her hair behind her ears before realizing how _big_ it makes her ears look. She furiously covers them up with her hair again, groaning as she walks back into her bedroom. 

She looks through her wardrobe for something appropriate to wear to a club, a _fancy_ club, a _Burlesque_ club, but nothing seems to fit the bill. She’d go and steal something from Jongdae’s closet if it would fit her, but Jongdae is so fucking tiny and cute, and Chanyeol’s so _big_ and _awkward_. 

She rifles through her clothes on hangers like she’s flipping through a Rolodex, finally settling on a big black t-shirt. She hurries over to her drawers, grabs a pair of black jeans, and decides that’s good enough. 

After she’s dressed, she runs some black liner at her top and bottom lash lines, smoking it out a bit with her fingertip before blinking across a mascara wand. It’s more makeup than she’s worn since her cousin’s wedding last spring, and she stands back from the mirror a little, studying her reflection. 

It’s fine, she thinks. She looks… fine, right? 

Groaning, she grabs a beer from the fridge. She shotguns it in long pulls of her throat, and then she calls a car.  
  


❈

She feels distinctly less than comfortable when she is dropped off in front of the burlesque club. It is a jewel among the rest of the buildings, a clean, crisp facade with the name of the club in bulb lights: _Aura_. The sidewalk is screaming with people, with mythics and humans alike, people flying and buzzing around. Chanyeol tries to make herself small as she pulls the door open, but it is heavier than she expected. She puts a little more muscle into it, drags it open just enough to slip inside.

The place is empty, dim. She doesn’t know what she expected. She looks around, momentarily overwhelmed by how beautiful the interior of the club is. Despite the cleanliness of the exterior, it didn’t look like much from the outside, but inside… it is more glamorous than she ever could have imagined. 

The walls are a warm gold, the woodwork mahogany, an old blood red. There are dozens of booths, the cushioning deep purple and diamond tufted. The chandeliers are oil rubbed bronze, and they look heavy, rich. On each tabletop, there is a floral arrangement, deep red roses and white larkspur. As she moves through the interior, she is greeted by the large horse-shoe shaped bar, and behind the bar, there are warmly lit shelves lined with bottles of wine and liquor. 

There is classic rhythm and blues being filtered through the place, slow and easy, and Chanyeol stares in wonder. It’s so beautiful. She regrets taking so long to visit. 

“Hello?” she calls. “I-Is anyone here?” 

No one answers her call, so she wonders if she should continue to look around. She isn’t sure where the dressing rooms are, and while she isn’t fond of snooping, the doors were open and Jongdae _told_ her to come. 

Just as she is about to walk around the bend to where she _thinks_ the dressing rooms might be, she is nearly bowled over by… by a _creature_. 

She jumps back, eyes wide as a thin black dragon flies, flits through the air above. Chanyeol gasps, unaccustomed to seeing such a rare mythic. Its wings are paper thin and black, the boning bright gold, striking against the metallic sheen. It is a truly gorgeous sight to behold, and Chanyeol stands there, mouth open stupidly as she watches the dragon move, body curling as it flies, dipping and soaring, circling chandeliers in practiced, smooth movement. 

Chanyeol’s shock only deepens when the dragon lands, hiding behind the bar before a slight girl pops up from where the dragon landed. Her eyes are bright gold, glittering as she stares directly at Chanyeol. 

“So, who are you?” the girl asks, and she tucks her long black hair behind her ear. “Are you… wait, do we have a new girl?” She grabs a bottle of wine from the fridge, tips it into a glass, a river of red. She stares at Chanyeol, and Chanyeol feels her face heat. “No need to be shy.” 

“N-No,” Chanyeol answers, “no, I’m… no, I’m friends with a girl who works here. I don’t work here.” 

The dragon smirks, and when she flicks her tongue out of her mouth, it is forked like a snake’s. She pours another glass fuller than the first, and she cocks her hip to the side as she holds both glasses in her hands. 

“What?” the girl asks. “Never seen a shapeshifter before?” 

“N-No,” Chanyeol says stupidly. “Sorry.” 

“No apologies necessary,” the girl smiles. “I’m _very_ rare.” She walks over to Chanyeol, stares up into her eyes. “So, you said your friend works here, right? I’m offended she’s never mentioned me before.” She grins slyly. “You’re with the pixie.” 

Chanyeol smiles, tries not to look too eager at the mention of Jongdae. “Y-Yeah, that’s her.” Chanyeol brushes her hair behind her ear before realizing that she is standing before an elegant, beautiful, illustrious creature, while _she_ is gangly, awkward, and has big ears. She fixes her hair, covers her ears again. “Sorry, am I… am I allowed back there?” 

The dragon raises one of her shoulders casually, and she walks off carrying the wine. 

Chanyeol follows where she leads, the halls of the club getting narrower, dimmer before they open up to some bathrooms. They walk around the corner, and there is a red beaded curtain. The dragon pauses in front of it, shifts her weight from left to right. 

“Could you get that for me?” she asks, grinning at Chanyeol. She gestures with the wine. “Hands full.” 

“O-Oh, yes,” Chanyeol says, and she steps forward, her body against the wall as she sticks her arm out, parting the curtain for the shapeshifter. 

“Thanks, babe,” the dragon says, and she flicks her tongue out again flirtatiously before she steps into the dressing room. Chanyeol isn’t sure whether or not she should enter behind her before she hears the dragon call, “Jongdae, your girl is here.” 

“ _Chanyeol!_ Come in!” 

Chanyeol walks through the curtain, and she is momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer number of beautiful women that greet her. 

She doesn’t know anyone except Jongdae and the shapeshifter, but there is an elf, tall and lithe with long auburn hair that curves around her tall, pointed ears. She is sitting in front of a large mirror, her pretty hair tied into elaborate braids, studded with metal rings. She pats her cheeks with her hands, brings a pretty blush to her cheeks before the shapeshifter nudges her with her hip. The elf looks up at the dragon, smiles, and takes the fuller glass, sipping at it delicately. 

Chanyeol shrinks a little, steps closer towards the wall, and Jongdae must notice her discomfort, because she immediately flits to Chanyeol’s side, hugging her quickly. 

“Did the bitch introduce herself?” Jongdae whispers. 

“Uh, no,” Chanyeol whispers back. “Not yet.” 

“I’m not a bitch, and I have excellent hearing,” the shapeshifter says, and she turns back to the pair of them, sipping at her wine. “I’m Baekhyun, by the way.” 

“C-Chanyeol,” she introduces. 

“That’s Sehun,” Jongdae says. “Woodland elf, if you couldn’t tell by the—” 

“Hair,” Sehun says. “Don’t say ears. I’ll fucking kill you.” Chanyeol snorts out a laugh. She’s used to being the one with the biggest ears in any given room. It’s nice to be around an elf. “Nice to meet you, though. Are you staying for the show tonight?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Chanyeol says. “I think so.” 

“Cool,” Sehun smiles, and she gestures across the room to the other couple girls. “They’re pretty, but they’re friendly. Don’t be intimidated by them, not even Baekhyun.” 

Chanyeol looks across the room at the rest of the dancers. Sehun is right: they are all beautiful. She finds it hard to be anything _but_ intimidated by them, but she’s good with a challenge. She tells herself that the objective is to remain calm, remain cool, remain _collected._

“Junmyeon,” Jongdae calls, and the girl with shoulder length red hair turns, her green eyes glistening like something out of a fairytale. “This is Chanyeol. Roommate, best friend.” Jongdae turns to Chanyeol. “Junmyeon. Mer.” 

“Hi,” Junmyeon says, her voice just as pretty as the rest of her. “Are you excited? Jongdae said it’s your first time at the club.” 

“Yeah, I’ve never… this is…” 

“She’s not used to being around—” 

“Mythics?” Junmyeon asks, cocking her head to the side. 

“Hot girls,” Jongdae finishes. 

Chanyeol shoves her elbow into Jongdae’s side, and Jongdae whistles out a laugh. 

Two girls are in the corner, one helping the other with her eyebrows, and Jongdae points to the two of them. 

“That’s Yixing,” Jongdae whispers, pointing to the girl getting her brows plucked. “She’s a were, so she’s got some… hair issues.” 

“You’re not _quiet_ ,” Yixing says, and her eyes are dark and serious as she looks at Jongdae, but they melt to a soft amber as she looks to Chanyeol. “Nice to meet you.” 

“I’m Minseok,” the other girl says, smiling, and when she does, Chanyeol immediately notes her pointed canines. “Ah, sorry.” She holds her free hand up over her mouth. “I know the teeth make some people uncomfortable.” 

Chanyeol swallows over the lump in her throat at the sight of a vampire, at the memory of the morning. “N-No, it’s okay.” She clears her throat, smiles tightly. “I worked around vampires.”

“Oh no,” Minseok says, and she sets her tweezers down, turning to Chanyeol. “Have I said something terribly insensitive?” 

“She worked at the blood bank on Chambers,” Jongdae says, pointing her thumb at Chanyeol casually. “She got fired today.” 

“Oh _no_ ,” Minseok says, and she clasps her hands together like she’s a princess instead of a vampire. “I’m so sorry. I’ve visited that bank before. Everyone was so kind.” 

“It’s okay,” Chanyeol says. “Really, I’m—” 

“She’s down in the dumps, so we gotta put on a good show tonight, ladies,” Jongdae says, and she claps her hands as if to inspire some confidence. “Get really gay with it. I’m talking like, _extremely_ gay.” 

“Way ahead of you,” Baekhyun chimes, and she sticks her fingers in a v in front of her mouth, flicking her forked tongue between the gap. 

“Oh my God, she’s gonna think we’re hooligans,” Sehun groans, and she grabs a napkin, blots wine away from her mouth before turning to Chanyeol, knitting her brows sympathetically. “We’re very classy individuals, I promise.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Baekhyun says. “One of us eats her steaks blue.” 

“This is fucking _workplace harassment_ ,” Yixing whines, and she balls her wild dark brown hair up in a bun on top of her head, gesturing with tweezers. “One more smart comment, and I’m bringing it up with the fucking nymph.” 

“You know she likes me,” Baekhyun smiles. “You know she wants a piece of _this_.” 

Baekhyun smacks her own ass, slightly flat, through her sweatpants, and then grabs a small handful. 

The rest of them groan as if this is commonplace enough to result in boredom, and Chanyeol reflexively tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear where it’s fallen free. She catches a glimpse of herself in Jongdae’s mirror, and she looks away quickly, pulling the hair back to cover her ear again. 

“You don’t mind waiting here until the bartenders come in, do you?” Jongdae asks. “It’s just us girls.” 

“I’m okay,” Chanyeol says. 

“You look all… _nervous_.” She whispers the last part like it’s a secret. “If you really don’t wanna be here—” 

“I wanna be here,” Chanyeol assures Jongdae (and herself in the same breath). “I do. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna… like—”

“Unwind?” Sehun offers. 

“See some ass and titties,” Baekhyun nods. “The mythical kind.” 

“God, she’s gonna _leave_ ,” Jongdae whines, and she flies over to slap Baekhyun on the arm. It reads like playful antagonism to Chanyeol, but maybe that’s just because she’s looking too hard. Jongdae turns back, a winning smile on her face. “Remember, all your drinks are on me.” 

Chanyeol laughs. “Believe me, I remember.”  
  


❈

The bar opens not too long after Chanyeol arrives, and Jongdae places her at a booth that already has a _Reserved_ sign on it.

“Private booth, just for my special girl,” Jongdae says, and her pastel pink hair is all done up in victory rolls, lashes painted white. “Now, sit there and be good.” 

Jongdae slides the beer in front of her, and Chanyeol wraps both hands around it. “Kay.” 

“My number is gonna fuckin’ put you on your _ass_ ,” Jongdae brags. “Like, I am almost certain it will be uncomfortable to live with me. You will not be able to look at me the same way.” 

“Looking forward to it,” Chanyeol says, and she hides a smile at the mouth of the bottle before looking up to where Jongdae is turning away. “Hey.” 

Jongdae turns, cocks her hip to the side. “Hey.” She smiles, her wings fluttering with interest behind her. “What’s up?” 

“I just wanted to say… to say thanks,” Chanyeol says softly. “For inviting me. For… For being nice.” 

Jongdae rolls her eyes, and it calls attention to the makeup, pinks and golds and silvers streaked across her eyes and cheeks. 

“What are gal pals for?” she says, voice thick with sarcasm. “You’re my _best friend_ , idiot. Did you think I was just gonna let you crash and burn? After all we’ve been through?” 

Chanyeol takes a swig of her beer, letting the carbonation bubble down her throat. “I guess not.” 

“Good,” Jongdae says. “Now I’m serious. Sit back. Have fun.” She has a moment of clarity, or else, it looks that way from her expression. She quickly reaches into the pocket of her robe, pulls out a stack of low bills. “And here. For fun.” 

“Oh my god,” Chanyeol says, and she pushes the money back across the table. “I can’t take this.” 

“Take it!” Jongdae pushes it back. 

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

“No.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Jongdae says, screeching and whiny, before lowering her voice to a thin whisper. “Tip me best. I’ve got a bet going with Baekhyun.” Chanyeol smiles wryly. “Not a word.” 

“I didn’t say anything.” 

“Oh, but it’s _written all over your face._ ” Jongdae turns and walks away, waving back at Chanyeol over her shoulder, a little cloud of glitter from her hand. “Have fun.” 

Chanyeol proceeds to get pleasantly drunk on her own, watching the club fill up with excited patrons. It’s nice, being there by herself but surrounded by people. Slowly, slowly, the girls filter in, and Chanyeol hadn’t realized that they sort of acted as bottle girls between their numbers. Baekhyun, Jongdae, and Yixing all saunter out, and boy, do they look different in costume. 

Jongdae wears a classic green satin slip dress, two thin slits in the back to make room for her strawberry ice cream-colored wings. Chanyeol idly wonders how much she pays for costumes like that, wonders what kind of seamstress puts pieces like that together. It must cost a fortune, but Chanyeol thinks it’s probably worth it. 

Catching her eye, Chanyeol waves at Jongdae when she passes, gets a little coy wink as Jongdae serves a table, fluttering easily up into the air and making the patrons applaud. _Must be nice_ , Chanyeol thinks. 

Baekhyun is wearing a black suit, expertly tailored to her body, cut in at her waist, flaring out to accentuate the curve of her hips. The pant is long, wide-legged with a pleat up the middle, and it makes her look taller, longer. The jacket’s lapels are shiny reflective gold, and it matches the makeup. She glimmers in the dim light, cocky as she twirls through the room. She looks like a fucking mafia boss, her blood red lips pristinely painted, the pointy toes of her heels peeking out from her pants when she strolls through the place like she owns it. Chanyeol gets it now, gets the appeal of this. 

Chanyeol’s heart is in her throat when Baekhyun approaches. She puts her hands on the table top, leans over, and Chanyeol’s eye is drawn to what’s underneath the suit. _Nothing._

“Eyes are up here, baby,” Baekhyun says, and the heat practically simmers along her words. Chanyeol’s eyes are wide when she looks up into Baekhyun’s, molten gold, and Baekhyun laughs. “Still getting the hang of it here?” 

“There’s just… a lot,” Chanyeol says, and she tucks her hair behind her ear before pulling it back out, braiding it nervously. “Sorry.” 

“What are you sorry for?” Baekhyun asks. “I am here to be ogled.” 

“Don’t say it like that.” Chanyeol frowns. “Makes me feel—” 

“Oh, makes you feel like the big nasty lesbian trying to turn people?” Baekhyun steps back from the table, and snapping her fingers, she shifts into her dragon form, lithe and long and curling. 

She dances through the air, dipping and dodging the chandeliers, before circling back to Chanyeol’s table, landing on the table top. The face of the dragon is beautiful but dangerous, and Chanyeol leans forward, hand drawn to the scale. Baekhyun opens her mouth, shows all her teeth, and at the back of her throat, there is a billowing flame that builds, builds. 

Chanyeol sits back in her seat, heart racing, and in the next blink, Baekhyun is draped across the tabletop in her suit, smiling at Chanyeol. 

“Still think _you’re_ the predator here?” Baekhyun asks, and she licks her lips, forked tongue dancing over the red lipstick. 

Chanyeol nearly swallows her tongue, and Baekhyun pulls back, laughs. 

“Enough, enough,” Jongdae says, and Chanyeol wonders when she got there. Chanyeol hadn’t even noticed, Jongdae grabs Baekhyun by the arm. “I told you to take it easy on her.” 

“I’m just having _fun_ ,” Baekhyun says, and she looks Jongdae up and down with a smirk. “Working hard or hardly working?” 

Jongdae doesn’t respond, only reaches up to grab something from under her dress. It isn’t until Chanyeol sees the thick stack of cash that she realizes Jongdae must have hidden her tips under her garter. 

Funnily enough, the sight of the money lights a fire under Baekhyun’s ass, makes her eyes go wild, and she shifts again into her dragon, trying to make up the difference in their tip totals.

“You guys are really competitive,” Chanyeol notes. 

“Yeah,” Jongdae says, and they both look on as Baekhyun turns on the charm, leaning down in front of a group of guests, giving them a good look at… _the goods_. “It’s not so much the victory, it’s what the victory _entails._ ” 

“And what’s that?” Chanyeol asks. 

Jongdae mimes zipping her lips, throwing her hair back over her shoulder. “A lady _must_ have her secrets.”  
  


❈

Yixing opens the acts, and she is wearing a fur coat, hair teased out into a mane. Chanyeol doesn’t know the song, but it’s fast-paced and energetic and it makes the crowd swarm to the front of the stage. Lines for tips form immediately, and as she starts pulling off the coat, the lines grow. She wears strappy gold lingerie beneath her coat, criss-crossing across her chest and legs, a garter and belt. She slips off her stocking coyly before throwing one to the crowd, and Chanyeol smiles when one girl grabs it, clutches it to her chest and bounces up and down like she’s getting married next.

When the song ends, everyone erupts into applause, and Chanyeol gets out of her seat, tips Yixing well. Yixing smiles charmingly, not even the least bit out of breath. Chanyeol is impressed. She thinks if _she_ moved that much in such a short period of time, she probably would be throwing up backstage. 

Minseok performs next, and she does a chair dance that involves a member of the audience getting bitten. It is an especially captivating performance, and Minseok has eyes that could look through your fucking soul. Chanyeol is pleasantly drunk now, and nothing could bother her. Not even the sight of a little blood could get her down. 

“It’s all legal,” Minseok promises, taking Chanyeol’s tips with wide, concerned eyes. “They sign an agreement beforehand and everything! And I promise, it feels good!” 

She probably has no idea what it sounds like, but Chanyeol smiles and says that she’d like to try it sometime, overjoyed when Minseok tugs her into an affectionate little hug. 

The club cycles through its performances, Sehun and Junmyeon performing back to back. Chanyeol’s breath catches in her throat when she sees Sehun emerge from the parting curtain, hair braided somehow even _more_ elaborately than before, eyes deep and lined. Her dark, rust colored dress is made of long complicated pieces of silk, and once Chanyeol sees the pieces of similarly colored silk looped around the chandelier at center stage, Chanyeol realizes that it will be an aerial performance. 

It is like nothing Chanyeol has ever seen before, the pieces of her dress lost in the pieces that she dances on, wrapped around her bare feet and ankles and arms. She looks like she’s tied in a spiderweb of orange silk, and her face is fragile, vulnerable as she twists and turns, her body slowly unwoven from her dress to reveal a rhinestone-covered corset, the small triangle of fabric between her legs glittering as well. She turns upside down, and Chanyeol sucks in a breath as she splits her legs open. The silks carry her, spinning and spinning. The crowd applauds, and with an incredible display of strength, she carries herself with one arm, using her free hand to quickly rip off the corset, letting it fall to the floor below her. 

She spins and spins, drops inch by inch until her feet are on the floor, the silks wrapping around her like a makeshift gown, and when she takes them away, throws them back towards the curtain, her bra is gone, dropped next to the corset. The song ends, and she bows to thunderous applause, a beautiful and rare smile on her face. Chanyeol tosses her an insane amount of money, and Sehun offers a little goofy wink, cracking through the impenetrable stage facade for just a moment. 

Chanyeol is floating on a cloud, drunk on the performances and free alcohol, and when they wheel out the giant tank of water, she nearly swallows her tongue. Junmyeon’s performance is entirely performed in the water, and the people _scream_ as soon as they see her. She is ethereal in the water, like a piece of moving art, her hair dancing through the water along with her. Her tail is glimmering violet and fuchsia, and her coloring is striking. Chanyeol gasps and gawps as she easily darts through the water, jumping up through the air when the mood strikes her. She backflips easily, and the audience goes crazy, all but throwing the money at her. 

It is insane, Chanyeol thinks, the level of talent they have here. There is no weak link in the show, she realizes, and everyone is at the absolute apex of their craft. She leans her head back against the cushioned seat as another beer is pushed in front of her, the end of the song climaxing as Junmyeon leaps from the water, effortlessly shifts from mermaid to human form, the stage wet underneath her feet. 

She stands and applauds, just a little dizzier than the moment before. 

“You like that?” Jongdae asks, and she is walking hand in hand with Baekhyun, making Chanyeol frown in confusion. “Watch this.” 

As the stage is wiped clean, Junmyeon heading backstage in her terry cloth robe and wet hair, Jongdae and Baekhyun step behind the curtain together. The music shifts effortlessly, and Chanyeol sucks in another breath, immediately plunged back into the fantasy. 

Baekhyun and Jongdae perform together, and it is… _intensely_ sexual. Chanyeol supposes that’s the point in a burlesque club, but it almost makes her feel like she’s looking at something she shouldn’t be when they climb over top of one another, slowly stripping off clothes like it’s just another night of foreplay. Chanyeol eventually does look away, as it becomes a bit too much to see her best friend practically fucked to completion right in front of her, but when the performance is over, the lines are longer than they’ve ever been, and Chanyeol decides to tip them both equally, hoping it complicates their bet further. 

Towards the end of the night, Chanyeol is standing there with not a care in the world, nursing a waning buzz as she waits for another drink. That is when Chanyeol sees her, the most beautiful person she’s ever seen in her entire fucking life. 

She is draped in silk, a deep burgundy that makes her pure platinum blonde hair look all the more beautiful. Her hair is slick and straight, and when she turns, it moves like liquid, like white water over her shoulder. Around her arms, there is a stacked set of white boas, fur not feather, and Chanyeol is in awe when the woman turns. It is then that Chanyeol realizes they aren’t boas at all. They’re the dancer’s _tails_. 

Chanyeol gets closer, drawn like a moth to a flame. She watches as a pointed ear peeks through the beautiful woman’s locks, and when her gaze meets the dancer’s, Chanyeol notes that the woman’s eyes are a deep, dark bronze. They freeze Chanyeol in her place, freeze the blood in her veins. 

The woman smiles at her, rare and rich, and Chanyeol nearly swallows her tongue. 

Jongdae approaches from the side, and Chanyeol doesn’t even realize until Jongdae touches her. She jolts, and it makes Jongdae laugh. 

“I see,” Jongdae nods. “Good taste, obviously.” 

“W-What?” 

“You’re into her,” Jongdae says, looking towards the woman in silk. “Good taste.” 

“W-What is she? A… A f-fox?” 

“Gumiho,” Jongdae says, and she laces her arm around Chanyeol’s. “Look at those tails, fuck. Isn’t she gorgeous? She’s the vedette.”

“Vedette?” 

Jongdae rolls her eyes. “The _star_.” She squeezes Chanyeol’s bicep as she holds her in place. “Idiot.” 

“The star,” she mutters, stupid. “I can see why.” She is completely and totally transfixed, wholly unable to keep her eyes off the gumiho. “W-What’s her name?” 

“Jongin,” Jongdae says. “Should I get you a seat down in the front so you can drool directly onto her feet?” Chanyeol shoves her shoulder into Jongdae’s, and she gets a sparkling little laugh for her trouble. “You didn’t even compliment my number. What the fuck?” 

“It was really good. Really, really good,” Chanyeol says dully, and once she is handed her beer, she sips at it, her head spinning already as Jongin strolls through the club, looking like something straight out of the movies. 

Chanyeol hurriedly moves as the gumiho approaches, runs back to her table so that she doesn’t bother the star. She lets the beer bubble down her throat as she attempts to avoid staring at Jongin, but somehow, her gaze keeps going back to the long line of her back, the wine-colored silk cutting against her skin. Chanyeol always looks away before the gumiho catches her, careful as she observes, but as Chanyeol works her way through another beer, she gets a little more lax. More lackadaisical. Easy with drunkenness. 

Jongin turns, meets her eye. 

Chanyeol nearly dies, nearly falls into the earth. 

And Jongin just winks at her before she turns back to the table she was entertaining. 

Chanyeol rests her head against the booth, closes her eyes, and lets herself dream of a future with someone so beautiful. She could do anything, she thinks, if someone like that loved her. If someone so lovely even gave her the time of fuckin’ day. They could be… man, they could really be _something._ Chanyeol thinks she would learn to cook for a woman like that. She’d learn to do anything she needed to. 

When her show begins, Chanyeol feels glued in her seat, sitting up stick straight as she stares in awe of the woman before her. Jongin dances so effortlessly, so emotionally, and it feels like a performance that no one else could put on, something sensual but deep and all just with her body. 

The music is soft and slow, and it is so different from what everyone else did, so artistic and strange that Chanyeol can’t take her eyes off it, can’t let herself blink for fear of missing even a second of the magic. 

She pulls the dress off, one shoulder falling as she moves, the other deliberately pushed, and the audience is dead silent as she works, as the scrap of silk falls away from her body to reveal the lingerie beneath. Black and laced. Chanyeol can’t keep her eyes off Jongin, the way her body is shaped. The fan of tails covers her, drapes across her like a fur coat, and she peels them away one by one as her dance grows in confidence. 

She moves around the stage, spinning so quickly that Chanyeol can’t even tell what she’s still wearing, everything moving in a blur of black, tan, and white. She whips across the stage, fast and faster still, her hair dancing on its own, and by the time the music comes to a close, she is topless, her breasts sitting high and perfect, her white fur tails fanned behind her, arms spread open as the crowd devours the sight of her. 

The audience erupts in applause, and Chanyeol stands like she has been possessed, hammering her hands together so hard that they hurt by the end. Jongin smiles brightly, beautifully, and the line to tip her grows so long that it wraps around the bar. 

Chanyeol blinks wetly as she comes back to her body, suddenly aware of just how deeply it affected her, just how fucking in love she is after only one number.  
  


❈

Jongdae gathers Chanyeol up after the show, and she brings her backstage as she and the rest of the dancers are cleaning themselves up, stripping themselves of all their makeup, costume pieces, and other decorations.

Chanyeol sits and laughs as the girls go back and forth, arguing about which of them had the best showcase that evening, and Chanyeol surreptitiously looks around for Jongin, wondering where she is, whether she has her own dressing room or not. 

“Don’t keep us in suspense,” Minseok says, aiming the question between Baekhyun and Jongdae. “Who won?” 

“Won what?” Baekhyun asks, keeping it cool. 

“I did,” Jongdae says. 

Chanyeol begins to cheer, but the rest of the room groans. 

“Wait, is it good or bad?” Chanyeol asks. “I thought it was good.” 

“Good for me,” Jongdae promises, and she points her fingers out at the rest of the girls. “Bad for them.” 

“They always fuck in the storage closet, and you can _always_ tell,” Sehun whines. “She ties Baekhyun up using _my_ property, and the silks always reek afterwards because it smells like fucking strawberries when she nuts.”

“Hey!” Jongdae says. “It’s not my fault. Besides, I promise you it could smell a lot worse.” 

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says, immediately leaping to Jongdae’s defense cutely, "you smell like the fucking forest.” 

“I smell like autumn _dew_. I smell like _petrichor,_ and it’s natural,” Sehun says, and she jabs a finger into Baekhyun’s shoulder. “Don’t be rude.” 

Baekhyun, Sehun, and Jongdae devolve into a heated argument. Eventually, Junmyeon swishes over, her hair tied up in a silk scarf, and she puts her hands on Sehun’s shoulders. 

“Leave her alone,” Junmyeon says. “Or else.” 

“Oh, you’re so terrifying,” Baekhyun says, grinning wryly. “What are you gonna do, princess? Splash us?” 

“You think you’re so funny,” Junmyeon says, narrowing her eyes. 

“I have my moments,” Baekhyun smiles. 

“Ladies.” 

Immediately, the room falls silent, and everyone turns. There, at the beaded curtain is a short woman dressed in all black, a simple black t-shirt and black jeans. She looks to be wearing no makeup, and her black hair is cut into a blunt, shoulder-length bob with feathery, piecey bangs. She looks a bit severe, and Chanyeol stands a little straighter when the woman makes eye contact with her. 

“Hey, look. Kyungsoo,” Baekhyun says, and she points between Chanyeol and the woman. “You guys match.” 

“New girl,” the woman, Kyungsoo, says joylessly. She gestures back with her thumb. “Boss wants you. Follow me.” 

Without another word, Kyungsoo leaves the dressing room, the rest of them drenched in shocked silence. 

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Baekhyun says, and she shoves Chanyeol from behind, sending her stumbling forward. “Get in there, champ!” 

“D-Did I do something wrong?” Chanyeol asks, and she tucks her hair behind her ear before pulling it back in front again. “Did I tip badly?” 

“It’s nothing bad, I’m sure,” Jongdae promises. “Maybe she’s just looking for an impartial review?” Chanyeol stares at her. “Okay, your guess is as good as mine. I’m sure it’s fine! She’s probably just… heard me talking about you and wants to meet you? It’s gonna be totally okay. I promise! I give you my word, if you’re not back within five minutes, I’ll come get you.” 

Chanyeol doesn’t trust Jongdae as far as she can throw her. 

“Is she nice? Is she a demogorgon?” Chanyeol asks nervously. “Am I gonna get eaten?” 

“She’s a nymph,” Minseok answers prettily. 

“Which is sometimes just as bad,” Yixing snorts. 

“Go on, go on,” Baekhyun says, and she gives Chanyeol another little shove towards the beaded curtain. “Third door on the right.” 

Chanyeol feels a bit like she’s being led out behind the building, but if Jongdae promised, then she’s in good hands. That’s what she has to tell herself in order to walk down the dimly lit hallway back to the third door on the right, knocking before resting her hand on the doorknob. 

She hears some rustling and then a sparkling “Come in,” so she steels herself and opens the door. 

Sitting in a large, plush spinning chair is the nymph. The boss. 

_Kibum_ , if the nameplate on the desk is to be believed. 

She is a thin woman with a sleek, fashionable look about her. Her suit is bright blue, her black hair slicked back in a high ponytail, and her makeup… it looks professionally done. Avant garde. Off the wall. She doesn’t look anything like a mythic, let alone what she’s come to think of as a typical nymph. She looks like an especially beautiful woman, high-fashion and haute couture. 

“Hi there,” she smiles. “Take a seat, won’t you?” 

Chanyeol nearly stumbles over her feet as she moves to sit across from Kibum. 

“You’re Jongdae’s friend,” Kibum notes. “We’ve heard quite a bit about you.” 

“Oh,” Chanyeol says, and she sits straighter in her seat. “Hopefully good things.” 

“Some good, some bad,” Kibum says, and she smiles again. “How are you feeling?” 

“I-I’m good… uh, how are you?” 

“I’m very well, thank you,” Kibum says, tilting her head to the side. “You’re very pretty.” 

“W-What?” 

“Are you hard of hearing?” 

“No.” 

“Then I guess you just want to hear it a second time,” Kibum says. “You’re very pretty.” 

Chanyeol doesn’t get called pretty very often. Well, she does, but not usually by anyone other than her parents, Jongdae, and drunk girls in restrooms. _Especially not_ by people as beautiful as the nymph sitting before her.

“T-Thank you,” Chanyeol says. “Y-You’re really pretty too.” She twists her hands in her lap nervously, staring at her fingernails. 

Kibum makes a small noise, and it makes Chanyeol look up. “Thank you, Chanyeol. I must confess, I didn’t bring you in just to volley compliments.” 

“No, of course not,” Chanyeol says, and she laces her hands together neatly. “W-What would you like to talk about?” 

“I wanted to know what you thought,” Kibum says. 

“Of the show?” 

“Of the club itself,” Kibum clarifies. “We run a little differently than most clubs.” She opens her desk drawer, grabs a little vial of nail polish and a file. “We employ seven girls full time as dancers. Three bartenders. Five security. One girl for tech. All that adds up, of course, but if it wasn’t a viable model, then I wouldn’t be here.” She nods at Chanyeol. “And neither would you.” 

Chanyeol nods, tries to follow along. “Right, right.” She shakes her head. “Yeah, I… I don’t know, it’s a very nice place.” 

“Good bones in the building, don’t you think?” Kibum says. “I paid a lot to fix her up.” 

“It’s a beautiful building,” Chanyeol comments, still unsure why she’s back here, why Jongdae hasn’t come to rescue her yet. “Sorry, I… I’m not sure what to say.” 

“Then you don’t have to say anything,” Kibum says. “Let me talk at you for a while.” 

“Okay.” 

“We’re kinda like a family. Mythics, _especially_ when they’re dancers, they can be taken advantage of,” Kibum says. “I don’t like that. I used to be a dancer too, I know how it is. I wanted a place where… where they didn’t have to worry. Where they got their fair share, you know? Talent deserves more than random bookings. Random tips, you know?” 

“That’s really nice,” Chanyeol says. “I respect that.” 

Kibum stares at her blankly for a moment before she moves in a flurry. 

She absently files her claws as she kicks her feet up onto her desk. “I’ll put it this way.” She looks up at Chanyeol. “We’re in need of a runner.” 

“A runner,” Chanyeol says slowly. “I don’t know what Jongdae told you, but I mostly lift. I’m not super fast or anything.” 

Kibum lowers her file, stares at Chanyeol before throwing her head back, cackling like Chanyeol is absolutely killing with her new stand-up routine. 

“Oh my God, you’re cute,” she says. “We’re keeping you.” 

“O-Oh, okay,” Chanyeol says, confused. 

“Runners run for drinks, stuff for the girls, stuff they might need,” Kibum says. “The money isn’t that great, but it also could be a lot worse.” 

“Oh, I’m… sorry, you wanna give me a _job_?” Chanyeol asks. 

“Adorable,” Kibum comments, and she slows her voice down to a comical pace. “ _Yes_ , honey. I would like to give you a _job_.” 

“W-Why?” 

Kibum shrugs, kicks her right ankle over her left, twirls her file around in a little circle. “You’re cute, and the girls like you. And I think you’ll be able to stand up to them once in a while. The last runner got walked all over.” 

Chanyeol wants to tell her that _she_ is the type to get walked all over when pretty girls are involved, but she realizes at the last moment that it’s probably not a smart decision when a new gig just fell directly into her lap straight from heaven. Or… maybe from hell? Chanyeol doesn’t know where nymphs come from. 

“No, I’ll be good,” Chanyeol says, a smile creeping onto her face. “I swear. I’ll be really good. You can count on me. I’ll keep them in line.” 

“You better,” Kibum smiles. “Otherwise, you’ll be getting heel holes in your fuckin’ chest. And Sehun wears Louboutins. Let me tell you, those things are sharp.” Kibum holds up her hand, shows Chanyeol a little circular scar through her palm, and Chanyeol’s eyes go wide. “Oh, relax. It wasn’t her. I used to do gigs at another club. Some demon thought I stole her mascara. Like, in what alternate reality would I _ever_ deign to use some dirty old crusty backwater mascara?” 

Chanyeol snorts, the drunkenness wearing off entirely, and she sways a little in her seat, smiling to herself. “When do I start?” 

Kibum makes a noise of disbelief. “Tomorrow, of course. The girls show up around 5, 5:15 most nights. Some take longer to get ready, like Baekhyun and Jongdae. Some take way shorter. Jongin, Sehun. Anyway no later than 5:15, okay?” 

“Y-Yes, yes, of course,” Chanyeol answers. She stands. “Thank you.” 

“It’s my pleasure. And,” Kibum’s eyes skim over Chanyeol’s body, “all black is a good look. Let’s make that the uniform.” 

“Sure,” Chanyeol says. “Whatever you say.” 

“I like the sound of _that_ ,” Kibum says. She lowers her feet from her desk, stands up in front of Chanyeol. She’s short, comparatively, but her presence makes Chanyeol stand up straight. When Kibum sticks out her hand with her perfectly filed red nails, Chanyeol has no choice but to shake it. “I’m looking forward to working with you, honey.” 

“Thanks,” Chanyeol says, a great smile widening on her face, as if fate has struck her directly in the heart.  
  


❈

Chanyeol has no idea what to wear the next day.

“Didn’t Kibum say black?” Jongdae says. “Just wear anything. No one’s gonna be looking at you anyway.” Chanyeol looks towards the door, offended, and Jongdae peeks her head through, a pretty smile on her face. “No offense!” 

Chanyeol rolls her eyes. “None taken.” 

Her and Jongdae ride together in the back of an Uber, Jongdae with her gym bag full of costumes and jewelry for the evening, Chanyeol with her phone clutched between her legs. Jongdae looks at her, and Chanyeol can feel her stare, a particularly loaded stare at that. 

“What?” Chanyeol asks, and she sits up a little straighter, tucking her hair behind her ear before fixing it, looking out the window. 

“Did you steal my highlighter?” 

Chanyeol feels a flood of heat in her face. “No.” 

“You smell like cotton candy,” Jongdae says, and Chanyeol ignores the knowing tone, lets the lights of the city strobe over her as she continues to look out the window. “It’s holographic and extremely unsubtle. You barely blended it out.” Chanyeol can feel the heat jump to the tips of her ears. “You look pretty.” 

“I didn’t take anything,” Chanyeol lies. 

“Plus, you’re wearing chapstick, and you put mascara on,” Jongdae says. “That’s the Chanyeol equivalent of, like, a full face.” 

Chanyeol bites her lip, silent with the knowledge that she’s been beat, but she can’t let it go. The ride bumbles on, and it doesn’t leave her head. 

“M-Maybe you could teach me,” Chanyeol mutters. 

“What?” 

“Makeup,” Chanyeol says. “I didn’t… I never really learned.” She keeps her eyes locked out of the vehicle, not daring to look over. “And you’re really good.” 

Jongdae makes a soft noise, and Chanyeol tightens her legs around her hands. 

“Does this sudden interest in makeup have anything to do with the vedette?” 

Horrified, Chanyeol whips her head to the side, and Jongdae is staring back at her like she is endeared, elbow leaned up on the door, fist under her chin. 

“No,” Chanyeol says. “Shut up.” 

“Whatever you say,” Jongdae smiles. “Whatever you say.” 

When they get to the club, Chanyeol pulls the door open for Jongdae, and Jongdae floats in easily. 

“I really like this treatment,” Jongdae says, smiling as Chanyeol pulls the door closed behind them. “It’s really very lucky that Kibum immediately saw your potential.” 

“Yeah, I feel like I won the lottery,” Chanyeol deadpans. 

“Okay, first things first,” Jongdae says. “You should meet with Kyungsoo.” 

“Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol asks, and she conjures up the picture of the girl in all black, the blunt, fashionable cut. 

“She’ll be training you, I assume.” Jongdae waves her hand easily. “She’s been here the longest. Since we opened.” 

“Okay,” Chanyeol says, and she looks around. “Where would I find her?” 

Jongdae flits off, floating up above the room as she looks around. “Probably back in the office? She mixes our music herself so she might be working on that.”

Chanyeol nods, and she follows as Jongdae leads the way back towards the offices. Jongdae splits off, parting the beaded curtain, and then suddenly, Chanyeol is by herself walking down the dimly lit hallway. 

One of the doors is cracked open, so peeking inside, Chanyeol finds Kyungsoo with her big headphones on, eyes closed. The room seems to be a mishmash of tech equipment and stage props, and Chanyeol thinks she could easily lose an afternoon here just fiddling with everything. 

She steps in, taps Kyungsoo on the shoulder. Startled for a second, Kyungsoo turns sharply, eyes laser-focused on Chanyeol before lowering her headphones to her neck, the sound blaring out. 

“Hey,” Kyungsoo says, and she ruffles her bangs as if to fluff them out. “What’s up?” 

“J-Jongdae told me that you’d be training me,” Chanyeol says, and she takes a step back out of Kyungsoo’s space. “I-If you want me to come back later—” 

“No, now’s good,” Kyungsoo answers, and she stands up, ridding herself of the headphones entirely. “Did anyone give you a tour?” 

“Basically,” Chanyeol answers. “I think this… is the only room I haven’t seen.” 

“It’s basically a broom closet, but since we don’t have any witches in our midst, I get to put all my shit here.” Kyungsoo shrugs, a little lift of her shoulder. “It works out. I have a lot of stuff.” 

Chanyeol feels a smile creep onto her face. Kyungsoo isn’t mean. She just looks that way at first. 

“You run the audio?” Chanyeol asks. 

“I’m in charge of audio, the lights, all that dorky shit,” Kyungsoo smiles, and she is as beautiful as the rest of them. “It’ll be good to have another human around.” She nods towards the door. “The girls can get kind of—”

“Excitable?” Chanyeol fills in. 

“That is a generous word for it.” She snorts, grabbing her laptop from the desk. “Okay, so essentially, as long as you can deal with the girls in an orderly fashion, your job is easy. We ask, you answer.” She cocks her hip to the side, her laptop under her arm as she holds it to her body. “Got that?” 

“Seems simple enough,” Chanyeol answers. 

“The girls need something, you get it for them,” Kyungsoo says. “The bartenders need something, you get it for them. I need something, you get it for me. Do you see the pattern?” 

“I see it.” 

“You can and will be asked to do any of the following sorts of things: cleaning the bar or the dressing rooms, doing laundry for the bar or running out for dry-cleaning for the girls, ordering and picking up food for the girls, providing things like bobby pins, zip ties, rubber bands, and clothespins, and, uh… you know, lots of other little things.” Kyungsoo looks up into the air as if the words are coming to her from above. When she looks back down at Chanyeol, she is smiling brightly. “Your job, essentially, is to make the club run smoothly. I’m really happy you’re here.” Her face morphs into a scowl. “It’s been fucking awful without a bitch.” 

“A…” 

“Oh, sometimes they’ll call you a bitch,” Kyungsoo says. “They mean it lovingly. It’s not harassment if they love you.” 

“Right,” Chanyeol says, nodding. “Got it.”

“First job,” Kyungsoo says, “take some drink orders. You ever been a bartender before?” 

“Well, I have but it was back in college?” Chanyeol says. “It was a little dive.” 

“It’s cool, the girls aren’t hard.” Kyungsoo smiles charmingly, and Chanyeol tucks her hair behind her ear. “Baekhyun and Sehun like red wine. Jongdae likes 7 and 7s with seven cherries for a garnish.” She rolls her eyes. “Uh, Yixing likes beer… or Dark and Stormys. Junmyeon likes mojitos or margaritas. Um… oh, Minseok likes vodka and sodas. Jongin usually just sticks to water, but occasionally, she can be talked into a gin and tonic, or if she’s celebrating something, champagne.” 

“G-Got it,” Chanyeol stutters, thinking back to the gumiho, her tails laid along her arms. 

“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Kyungsoo says, and she turns, tapping her laptop, “gotta finish syncing the new show.” 

“Oh, what does that entail?” Chanyeol asks. 

“You really want to know?” 

“Sure?” 

“I run the show using a DMXIS interface connected with a USB, a 3 pin XLR cable from the DMXIS to my lighting controller, and that’s basically it.” She smiles like she’s lost in thought. “I have two Intimidator Waves that control my spots, COLORband Q3BTs that control my wash, and I’ve also got a GigBAR move, which is just like… super useful in case I need more movement and freedom. Plus, I have a lot of strobe and laser effects with those.” She breathes in, and she continues. “Basically, the DMXIS lets me control and schedule effects from the DAW, like, it runs as an instrument. So I see the audio, and I get to control the lights from the same panel. On and off, set up levels, mix colors, all that shit.” 

“Uh, wow,” Chanyeol says. “I didn’t really… catch most of that.” 

Kyungsoo laughs. “Once I get going, it’s hard to stop me.”

“It’s always nice to hear people talk about what they’re really passionate about,” Chanyeol smiles. 

Kyungsoo gives her a funny look. “You’re nice.” 

“Oh, uh, thank you,” Chanyeol says, feeling weirdly like she should curtsy. 

“Okay, I really have to get to it, but uh, wipe down the bar,” Kyungsoo says. “And then after that, take the orders from the girls. They all get thirsty around the time they’re beating their faces.” 

“B-Beating—”

“God, you’re very cute,” Kyungsoo smiles. “They’re gonna eat you alive.” 

Chanyeol watches Kyungsoo go, chasing her down with just her eyes, and she stands there for a moment, shell-shocked by what she’s gotten herself into before she breathes in, breathes out, and grabs a towel. If nothing else, she works hard. She’ll figure out the rest as it comes to her.  
  


❈

She parts the beaded curtain of the dressing room with one arm, sticks her head through cautiously, and she is met with a cloud of powder.

“Sorry,” Baekhyun says, and she pummels her face with a powder puff. “Bad timing on your part.” 

“Sorry,” Chanyeol says, “I’m just here to get the drink order.” 

“Oh, gosh,” Jongdae says, “look at you! First day on the job!” 

Chanyeol feels a blush rise to her face as the rest of the girls turn from their vanities so they can coo at her. She fixes her hair, nervously braids a little piece of it as Sehun and Jongdae and Minseok round on her. 

“You look so pretty,” Sehun says. “Did you put on makeup?” 

“No,” Chanyeol lies. 

“You look lovely,” Minseok praises. “I hope you enjoy working here.” 

“She definitely will,” Jongdae says, and she bumps her hip into Chanyeol’s. “Plenty of hot girls around.”

“ _Shut up_ ,” Chanyeol smiles, but she’s gotta hand it to Jongdae, she got it in one. It is pretty much the perfect gig. “All right, all right. Drinks, now.” 

“Ooh, feisty,” Baekhyun says. “Are we getting to you already?” 

“I’m gonna miss when you were the little impressionable ingenue,” Jongdae says, and then she looks Chanyeol up and down. “Well, not _little_ , but you know what I mean.” 

“If you don’t stop, you get no alcohol,” Chanyeol threatens. 

“She means _business_ ,” Yixing snorts. “Keep it up, Baekhyun.” 

“I’ll have a glass of red wine, please and thank you, my queen,” Baekhyun simpers. 

“Red wine,” Sehun says, heading back to her vanity. “More than Baekhyun, though. A double pour.” 

“Oh, you think you’re so funny,” Baekhyun sneers. “Just because alcohol makes it hard for me to control my shapeshifting…” 

“The last time she was well and truly inebriated, she turned into a goose,” Minseok laughs. 

“I told you not to _tell_ people,” Baekhyun screeches. “This is a _sorority_ , is it not? A sisterhood?” 

“When you first showed up, you told everyone it was a competition and not a best friend race,” Jongdae says. 

“Thoughts and feelings change!” Baekhyun says. “I’m dynamic! I’m the sympathetic main character in the best-selling novel that is my life!” 

“What do you want to drink?” Chanyeol asks Jongdae. 

“I’ll take wine too,” Jongdae says, and Chanyeol furrows her brow. “What?” 

“Nothing,” Chanyeol says, turning to Minseok. “You?” 

“Vodka soda,” Minseok smiles. “Thank you!” 

“Yixing?” Chanyeol calls.

“The darkest beer they have on tap, if you please.” 

“Could I have a mojito?” Junmyeon asks, clutching her hands together. “I know it can be a bother, but…” 

“Coming right up,” Chanyeol smiles. “It’ll only take a minute.” 

“God, it has _been a minute_ since we’ve gotten service like this,” Baekhyun says, and she holds up a makeup brush, blows on it. “This is the life, ladies, I’m telling you. This is the life.” 

“As long as you treat me well, I’ll treat you well,” Chanyeol promises. “Deal?” 

“What’s that called again?” Sehun smirks. 

“ _Tit_ for tat!” Baekhyun yells.

The room explodes into childish laughter, even Junmyeon and Minseok smiling prettily, and it makes Chanyeol feel like maybe she’s found a place in the world, a group she can call home. 

“Excuse me.” Everyone in the room turns at the sound of dripping honey, and when they look to its source, she is just as radiant as ever. “Can I have a glass of water?” 

“S-Sure,” Chanyeol says. “I’ll… I’ll bring it to your dressing room.” 

Jongin smiles, bright white and perfect, and she turns, her hair like melted white chocolate, spilling over her back as she walks out of the main dressing room. 

“Oh, that’s bad news,” Baekhyun says. 

“What?” Minseok asks. “What’s bad?” 

“Runner’s got a crush,” Baekhyun says. 

“No way,” Yixing says. “She’s nervous around everyone.” 

“Look at her,” Baekhyun says, and she walks over to Chanyeol, grabs her ears. “Look how red she is.” 

“She turns red when you wink at her,” Sehun says. “That’s not much of a tell.” 

“Look at her face,” Baekhyun says, and she smushes Chanyeol’s face between her hands. “These lovesick eyes? These parted, bitten lips? The vacant look of hopeless desperation? This is the look of a woman in _love_.” 

Chanyeol makes a noise of disgust, tries to shove away from Baekhyun, but her hands are strangely strong and she is held firmly in place. She pouts, looks around helplessly. 

“We need an all out assault,” Baekhyun says. She turns Chanyeol’s face towards each girl, gives them all a good look at her pathetic facade. “We need a game plan. We need a concerted effort, ladies.” 

“Concerted effort for what?” Chanyeol says, cheeks still squished together, making the words come out all funny. 

“I see,” Jongdae says. “I see, I see.” 

“What do you see?” Yixing asks. “I don’t see it.” 

“Get the fur out of your ears,” Sehun says. “We’re hooking them up.” 

“Hooking up w— _oh_ ,” Minseok says, the look of awareness dawning on her face, distinctly lovely. “Oh, they would make such a lovely couple, truly.” 

“Stop, stop,” Chanyeol says and she wriggles her way out of their weird embrace. “I’ll bring your drinks. Just… shut up.” 

“Oh, girls,” Baekhyun smiles. “This one’s gonna be a project. This one is gonna be a story for the _ages_.”  
  


❈

Chanyeol leaves the bar with her trays just as the bartenders are walking in, and they smile and nod at her prep work. Chanyeol luxuriates in the pride swelling inside her before she realizes she’s gonna have to go to Jongin’s dressing room, hand her the glass of water, and walk out like Jongin isn’t the most beautiful creature to ever walk the planet.

She steels herself before she walks into the main dressing room, all the girls now hyper-focused on makeup and hair. It’s eerily quiet as she puts the glasses down next to each dancer, each of them muttering their thanks, elbows braced on the table tops as they apply false lashes or liquid eye liner. Chanyeol thinks she might be able to escape without another inquisition, but when she turns to hand Baekhyun her wine, she is staring into Chanyeol’s soul. 

“Be calm, be cool, be collected,” she advises. 

“Just be yourself,” Junmyeon chimes. “She is lovely and _very_ down to Earth once you get past her intimidating beauty, and that should be quite easy.” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol snorts. “Easy.” 

“She’s telling the truth,” Sehun says. “She’s a lot less scary once you treat her like a person and less like an idealized version of your perfect wife.” The room turns to her, and she tilts up her perfect chin. “What? I’ve had a lot of experience with being put on a pedestal.” 

“You basically _beg_ to be put on a pedestal,” Yixing accuses. 

“Well, sometimes it’s very nice being pampered,” Sehun shoots back. “What of it?” 

“This is getting her nowhere fast,” Jongdae says, cutting in. “Just go in, hand her the fucking water, and walk out. This isn’t as big as they’re making it out to be.” 

“Right,” Chanyeol says, and she breathes in. “Right. Just water.” 

She walks out of the dressing room before she can rethink it, going down the hall to Jongin’s dressing room. She knocks politely, _tap, tap, tap_ , and then she takes a step back. 

She is not prepared for Jongin wrapped in a black satin robe, her white hair dripping over her shoulders. The contrast of the robe, her hair, her skin, it makes a pleasing palette to Chanyeol’s eye, and when Jongin smiles at her, taking the glass of water from her tray, Chanyeol nearly faints. 

“Ah, thank you,” Jongin says cheerfully, “I was thirsty.” 

“Y-Yeah, no problem,” Chanyeol answers, and she lowers the tray between their bodies, twiddles her fingers over the metal. “Could I get you anything else?” 

“Not at the moment,” Jongin smiles. “But you’ll be around, won’t you?” 

“I will.” 

“Then, I’ll know exactly who to call,” Jongin says. “Thank you.” 

“Thank you,” Chanyeol repeats dumbly. 

It makes Jongin laugh, and for that alone, Chanyeol considers it worthwhile. Her laugh is twinkling and starry, just as beautiful as she is. Jongin’s eyes are molten, fiery, lovely, and Chanyeol can’t help but smile back at her. 

“For what?” 

“Um,” Chanyeol says, and she looks around as if she could potentially find a _phone a friend_ option hanging in the air. “I mean, you’re welcome?” 

“Ah,” Jongin smiles, and she shifts her weight, cocks a hip to the side. Her tails flair out behind her body in a fan, and Chanyeol dreams about falling to her knees. “I understand. I get nervous sometimes too.” 

Chanyeol feels completely see-through in the best kind of way. 

“B-Break a leg,” Chanyeol says. 

“Thank you again,” Jongin says, and she hikes her thumb over her shoulder. “I really should start getting ready.” 

“Right, yes, obviously,” Chanyeol says. “Sorry for bothering you.” 

“Oh, it’s never a bother.” Jongin turns with another glittering smile, and as the door closes, Jongin begins to shrug the robe away from her body, revealing a naked shoulder before the hint cuts off. 

Chanyeol is left standing there in awe of the tease she just witnessed, wondering if, for Jongin, the show’s already begun.  
  


❈

Her first night working is a lot different than her first night observing. When she’s running around like a hydra with one of her heads cut off, fetching things for Kyungsoo or one of the girls or one of the bartenders, the evening passes extremely quickly. Then, during certain periods of the evening, she feels like she’s not earning her keep. She stands there, watching the shows and watching the merrymaking until someone else calls on her, says “Chanyeol,” through her earpiece.

By the end of the night, she barely has time to focus on her feet aching, let alone worry about coming off like an idiot to Jongin. In fact, they barely get a chance to see each other. 

Chanyeol is glad for it, of course. She would hate to make a fool of herself in front of someone so lovely.  
  


❈

They all meet in the dressing room afterwards, and the group embraces her, sweating with melting makeup, lined with feathers and silk.

“First night, first night,” Minseok cheers, and they all begin to jump as she stands there, extremely confused.

“First night,” Chanyeol says, confused, but she begins to jump along with them. 

“You did so well,” Sehun cheers. “You didn’t pass out or throw up once.” 

“I exercise sometimes,” Chanyeol says, and eventually, the circle breaks. 

“I think you’re gonna do well here,” Yixing says, and she pats her on the shoulder. “As long as you keep it up.” 

It feels vaguely like a threat, but Chanyeol nods, eager to prove her worth. 

“We should celebrate,” Baekhyun says. “Have a drink at the bar.” 

“The bar is closed,” Chanyeol says. 

“Bar’s never closed for us,” Jongdae assures her. 

“The bartenders have all gone home,” Chanyeol says. 

“So?” Baekhyun says. “Self-serve.” 

“That is against policy,” Kyungsoo says, but the girls all filter out of the dressing room past her. “No, stop, don’t.” She waves at them boredly before giving Chanyeol a smile. “Hey, as long as I warn them, I can’t get in trouble. You coming?” 

Chanyeol follows close behind, and the club looks so different than it did just an hour ago. It is a bit brighter, and Chanyeol sits one one of the stools as Baekhyun and Sehun start mixing drinks behind the bar like they’re being paid for it. 

“You are so bad at this,” Jongdae comments, and she flicks a paper coaster at Baekhyun’s face. 

“I’m an excellent bartender,” Baekhyun says, tilting her nose up in the air as she makes a dramatic pour of vodka into a glass. “See?” 

“Are you just gonna serve a big highball of vodka?” Jongdae snorts. 

“You don’t know me, and you _don’t_ know my life.” 

Chanyeol snickers, and she flags down Sehun for a beer. She uncaps it in the palm of her hand, listening to Jongdae and Baekhyun bicker about screwdrivers, as Minseok and Junmyeon sing melody and harmony to _I Will Survive_ , as Yixing and Sehun talk about their performances. She stares off into the middle distance, letting her eyes go sleepy until Kyungsoo pokes her in the side. 

“So, you survived,” Kyungsoo says, and she holds her beer to Chanyeol like she’s gesturing with a microphone. “What are you gonna do now?” 

“I’m going to Disney World,” Chanyeol smiles. 

Kyungsoo pulls the bottle back and sips from it, making a little _ah_ sound after she’s done. “Seriously. You did good.” 

“Thanks,” Chanyeol says. “I was nervous.” 

“Couldn’t tell.” 

“Really?” 

“No, I could tell,” Kyungsoo smiles. “But you did good anyway. I mean, I think nerves are good in small doses.”

Chanyeol takes a sip of her beer, tucking her hair behind her ear. “How do you figure?” 

“No nerves, you don’t really care that much,” Kyungsoo says. “Too many nerves, you’re a basketcase. _Some_ nerves, you give it a hundred percent, but the anxiety isn’t enough to kill you.” 

“The sweet spot,” Chanyeol nods.

“Hard to get yourself to that place sometimes,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Yeah, sometimes.” 

They drink in their own little bubble of peace and quiet, but they both burst into a fit of giggles once Jongdae flies behind the bar to wrestle a bottle of Ketel One from Baekhyun’s hands. 

“Go on,” Kyungsoo says. “Break ‘em up.” 

“That _can’t_ be my jurisdiction,” Chanyeol says. 

“Well, it certainly isn’t mine.” 

Chanyeol sighs, and she walks behind the bar, one hand on Jongdae’s left shoulder and the other on Baekhyun’s right. 

“Okay, okay,” Chanyeol says. “I think that’s enough.” 

“She’s being _crazy_ ,” Jongdae says. “Look at her eyes.” 

“I’m gonna turn into a wild boar, and I’m gonna _gut_ you, bitch,” Baekhyun says. 

“This is an intentional threat,” Jongdae says, pulling on Chanyeol’s shirt. “You gotta report her. She’s out of control.” 

“Try and _catch_ me, baby,” Baekhyun says, and in the blink of an eye, she shifts to her dragon, the bottle of vodka dropping through the air. 

Hurriedly, Chanyeol sticks out her hand and grabs it by the neck, gasping as they all narrowly avoid disaster. 

“Whew, quick hands,” Jongdae says, and she grabs the vodka, sets it on the bar. “Now, go get the dragon.” 

“ _You_ deal with her,” Chanyeol says. “I’m off the clock.” Junmyeon and Minseok cheer, and Chanyeol turns to them. “What?” 

“Normally, _we’re_ the ones who have to deal with them,” Minseok says, “but now we have you!” 

“And you’re so good at separating them!” Junmyeon says before turning to Minseok. “We should get Kibum something nice.” 

“An Edible Arrangement,” Minseok says. “Oh, with chocolate covered strawberries!” 

“We could do flowers, too,” Junmyeon says. “If memory serves, I believe her favorite flower is the tiger lily.” 

“You could send her one of those jerky baskets,” Yixing suggests, and they all turn to her. “What? It’s good protein, and some of us like meat.” 

Chanyeol scoffs as the rest of the girls jump on the opportunity to tease Yixing, but Chanyeol watches as Jongdae floats off towards the offices, chasing after Baekhyun. She tilts her head, wondering to herself, but after another couple sips of her beer, she forgets all about it. 

She forgets because Jongin emerges from the hall, all tidied up and dressed in street clothes, a t-shirt and jeans, hair pulled back into a high ponytail. Her tails are fanned out low behind her body, but when she sees the girls at the bar, when they all cheer for her, the tails pick up with interest. 

Sehun immediately pours her a glass of water, and she walks over, takes the seat next to Kyungsoo, peeking around her to smile at Chanyeol. 

“Did you have a good first night?” Jongin asks. 

“Y-Yeah,” Chanyeol says stupidly. 

“Did I miss any drama?” Jongin asks, looking around. 

“Only Jongdae and Baekhyun’s fourteenth fight of the fortnight,” Sehun says. 

“Ah, not much, then,” Jongin says, “but I should warn you all.” 

There is a loud echoing groan, one that even Kyungsoo joins in on. Chanyeol sits there, bewildered. 

“What?” Chanyeol whispers to Kyungsoo. 

“They’re banging it out in the closet again,” Kyungsoo says. “Better get used to that.” 

“It was getting loud just as I left,” Jongin smiles. 

“Good timing,” Yixing cheers. 

“To good timing!” Junmyeon says, raising her glass into the air. 

They all raise their glasses, and Chanyeol’s heart scrambles up into her throat as Jongin tilts the rim of her glass forward until she and Kyungsoo clink the necks of their bottles against the glass. The ringing sound soars through the air, and Chanyeol mutters, “To good timing,” just as the blush on her face begins to rise.  
  


❈

Working at the burlesque club is wonderful, but it also brings its own unique set of challenges.

Chanyeol didn’t usually spend _much_ on alcohol, but now she spends _nothing_ because according to Kibum, she can always drink for free. Business booms every single night, and she spends her evenings doing a lot more running than she was initially led to believe. It’s fun, though, and she likes that it keeps her on her toes. It’s a lot more physically challenging than working at the blood bank or at any office. More often than not, she’s running drinks, helping out with the bartenders, and occasionally, Kyungsoo will bring her over to the booth, showing her how certain things work. 

She finds it a lot more fascinating than she thought she would, and eventually, she becomes pretty proficient. 

“Proficient in what,” Kyungsoo says blankly, queuing up the next performance.

“Don’t say it like that, you’ll make me feel bad,” Chanyeol says. “I’m good. I can do the colors and everything.” 

“Yes, you’re very talented,” Kyungsoo says, and she navigates to Junmyeon’s presets. “Ever since she started doing the whole _fish out of water, dying on stage_ stuff, I’m feeling really bad about the amount of plastic I use.” 

“A show with a message,” Chanyeol says, tucking her hair behind her ears. “Can’t go to any other burlesque club and get that.” 

“We have socially conscious mythics,” Kyungsoo nods. “People will come far and wide to be sexually aroused and sexually informed.” 

Chanyeol smiles, but she hears one of the bartenders call her name from the earpiece loudly enough that Kyungsoo looks at her. 

“Sounds like an emergency,” Kyungsoo says, and she waves her off. “Go, go. I got this.” 

“Cool, thanks,” Chanyeol smiles. 

She walks over to the bartender, and the bartender is in the midst of shaking a cocktail shaker exceedingly violently. “Good, you’re here.” 

“I’m here,” Chanyeol says. 

“One vodka tonic, one gin and tonic, two vodka Red Bulls, two house reds, two house whites, and a water with lemon,” she says, and she points over to the fourth booth. Chanyeol sees eight bachelorettes with boas and sashes raising hell as Yixing does her fan dance on stage.

Immediately, she gets to work pouring, but she does the tabulation in her head. “That’s nine drinks,” Chanyeol says. “Right? Eight girls, nine drinks?” 

“One’s for me.” 

Chanyeol looks over her shoulder, sees Jongin standing there with a smile across her blood red lips. “O-Oh, right.” Chanyeol turns back to her glasses, feels the blush creep up the back of her neck. 

Jongin, for her part, looks as exquisite as she normally does. Chanyeol only let herself catch a glimpse, but even that is enough. Her dress is red satin, and Chanyeol could see the hint of her lingerie beneath, thin lines that Chanyeol wants to trace with her fingertips. Jongin’s hair is set in a beautiful finger wave, curling around the side of her face. She looks like pure old school glamour, her eyelids glittering gold, her black eyeliner flicked and winged. Her lashes are full, and when she bats her eyelashes, Chanyeol thinks she could get anyone to do _anything_ for her. Absolutely anything at all. 

Chanyeol bites her lip as she makes and pours her drinks, and when she turns back to Jongin, she is overwhelmed by the deep neckline of her dress, highlighted by the body jewelry, glittering rhinestones that stretch down her breastbone. 

“Uh, that’s… one vodka tonic, one gin and tonic, two vodka Red Bulls, two reds, two whites, and—” 

“And my water,” Jongin says, and Chanyeol looks at her lips, glossy and red. “Thank you.” 

“N-No problem,” Chanyeol says, and she turns back to the bartender before she can make an even bigger fool of herself. “Um, anything else?” 

“No, I’m good now,” she says. “Sorry, I was in the weeds with that bachelorette party.” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, and she peeks around, looks at the other bartender. “Can I do anything for you?” 

“Fresh towels,” the girl says. “Stat.” 

“Be right back,” Chanyeol says, and she goes back to the storage closet, taking the moment to compose herself. 

She breathes in, breathes out, and she sees Jongin in her mind’s eye, her tails stacked up along her arms like fuzzy stoles. How can anyone expect her to work here when she is so fucking in love with Jongin? She is always just a moment away from completely fucking everything up. 

“Chanyeol,” she hears in her ear, Kibum’s knife-like voice in her ear. “Where are you?” 

“Grabbing towels,” Chanyeol says. “What’s up, boss?” 

“Ah, I love hearing that word,” Kibum simpers. “When you’re done with the bartenders, come into the office, okay? I’ll give you the card. I need you to run down to the store for some staples.” 

“No worries,” Chanyeol says, and not for the first time, she is happy for the distraction. 

If she wasn’t so busy, she thinks her brain would get stuck on Jongin forever.  
  


❈

“Excellent evening, ladies,” Junmyeon cheers, and Chanyeol sits in the corner next to Sehun’s table as they all get cleaned up. “Jongdae, your new number was—”

“Talented? Brilliant? Incredible? Amazing? Show-stopping? Spectacular? Never the same? Totally unique? Completely not ever been done before? Unafraid to reference or not reference? Put it in a blender? Sh—” 

“I thought it was cool,” Sehun interrupts. 

“Yeah, very cool,” Junmyeon says. “I liked the confetti cannons.” 

“I didn’t,” Chanyeol chimes. 

“That’s only because you had to clean them up,” Jongdae says. “Everyone else was gagged.” 

“I’m about to gag _you_ ,” Chanyeol mutters. 

“She’s into it,” Baekhyun says, “wouldn’t be much of a punishment.” 

The room _ooh_ ’s and _ahh_ ’s, and Jongdae makes a sputtering sound. “I told you that in _confidence._ ” 

“We’re not kinkshamers,” Sehun says. “Well, not usually.” 

“As long as it stays in your own home,” Yixing warns. 

“And not in the supply closet,” Junmyeon says. 

“Just to spite you all,” Jongdae says, “I’m gonna get her to lay so much pipe in there, and guess what? No fucking gags, ladies.” 

“Don’t bring me into this,” Baekhyun says. 

“You brought _yourself_ into this,” Jongdae says. 

“Uh oh,” Sehun smirks. “Trouble in paradise.” 

“There’s no trouble, and there’s no paradise,” Jongdae screeches. “If anything, we’re… there's harmony. We’re harmonious in hell.” 

“Oh my God,” Yixing snorts. “New tagline for this place.” 

The rest of them trail off into laughter, and Chanyeol goes back behind the bar, reaches down to the cooler to get herself another beer. The girls begin to _ooh_ and _ahh_ again, and Chanyeol stands up straight, looks around to try and spot what they’re cooing at, but she immediately feels as though she’s made a mistake. 

“You look so hot like that,” Sehun sighs. “It’s evil.” 

“What?” Jongin asks, a little smile on her face. “This?” 

She gestures down to her outfit, slim dark-wash jeans and a black turtleneck, her hair cascading down her back in curls, her tails fanned out prettily behind her. It is not an exceedingly different look, save for the glasses, a circular, thin set of gold frames that make her look both innocent and coy. 

“You know exactly how you look,” Yixing says. “Just as perfect as always.” 

“Oh, you guys are so nice,” Jongin says, and she takes her normal seat next to Kyungsoo at the bar before tilting her head down, staring at Chanyeol through her lashes. “C-Chanyeol?” 

“Yeah?” Chanyeol says, perhaps a bit too eagerly. “What’s up?” 

Her voice cracks a little, and Sehun makes a stifled snort. Chanyeol takes a second to glare at her before looking back to Jongin. 

“Could I have a glass of ginger ale?” Jongin asks, and she adjusts the glasses on her face. “With, um, with a cherry?” 

Chanyeol swallows thickly before she grabs a glass full of ice. She grabs the soda gun, presses _G_ , and fills the glass up before topping it off with two cherries. She slides it down, and Jongin smiles at her, the blunt force of her beauty smacking Chanyeol upside the head. 

Chanyeol grabs her beer, sits in her normal seat opposite Kyungsoo, and keeps her head down. She gets a text from Jongdae not a moment later, and she slides it open as the rest of them fall back into normal conversation. 

_you look like you need a stronger drink_ , Jongdae writes, and Chanyeol peeks around the rest of the girls, arguing about whose show is best now. 

Jongdae looks at her, gives her a little wave. For some silly reason, it makes Chanyeol feel a little better about her station in life, so she tags a swig of her beer, and she offers her two cents.  
  


❈

On the whole, the club runs smoothly. On rare occasions, there is a malfunction. Malfunctions usually mean Chanyeol will be called into the mix somehow.

“This cannot happen,” Sehun says, and she starts flapping her arms wildly. The gown is split clean up the middle, Sehun’s belly button on full display. “This _can’t_ happen.” 

“It’s a super minor tear,” Chanyeol says, but when she looks up into Sehun’s eyes, she is about to burst into tears. “A super minor tear that can be easily fixed? Since it’s, uh, on a seam?” 

“Okay,” Sehun says, and she holds a tissue up to her eye to catch one of the tears. “Okay, can you… can you fix it please? I’ll cry.” 

_You’re already crying_ , Chanyeol thinks. 

“Um, I can try?” Chanyeol says, and she goes to the emergency box that she’s set up for just such occasions. “Just don’t ruin your makeup, okay?” 

It’s filled with little items that she’d normally have to run out for, bobby pins, clear nail polish, super glue, hair ties, small containers of hair spray and deodorant, and down at the very bottom, there is a small sewing kit. She’s yet to tap into it, but she figures there is no better time to stretch her sixth grade home economics skills than right before Sehun is due to be on stage. 

“Okay,” Chanyeol says, and she hurriedly threads her needle, before gesturing to Sehun. “Off with the dress.” 

Sehun steps out of the gown with ease, and Chanyeol takes a second to appreciate the subtle curve at her breasts and at her hips. 

“You see me topless pretty much every night,” Sehun says, and she folds her arms across her chest, tilting her nose up into the air. 

“Right,” Chanyeol says. 

She takes the dress, flips it inside out, and begins to furiously stitch the center seam back into place. 

“Sehun in three minutes,” Kyungsoo says in her earpiece, and Chanyeol begins to sweat. 

“Ah, hurry, hurry,” Sehun says impatiently, and she lurches over Chanyeol’s shoulder as she works. “Are you doing it?” 

“Let me do it, let me do it,” Chanyeol says, and she ties off the stitch with a little knot, flipping the garment right side out before assessing it. “What do you think?” 

Sehun puts her chin on Chanyeol’s shoulder, looks the dress over. “Oh my god, you really did it.” She throws her arms around Chanyeol’s middle, squeezes her with the strength and zeal of a much larger person, and she squeals in her ear before releasing her and stealing the dress from her hands. “Okay, okay, help me get it over my hair.” 

Chanyeol holds the neck open so that Sehun can wiggle her way into the dress, and before long, she is escorting Sehun backstage. 

“Sehun on,” Kyungsoo says, and Chanyeol gently pushes her forward, watching the act overcome her, transforming from frantic, anxious performer to diva. “Good work.” 

“Thanks,” Chanyeol says breathlessly. 

She runs back to the nearly empty dressing room, Baekhyun in the middle of powdering her nose, and she deals with the mess quickly. She puts the sewing stuff back into the box, piles everything else back on top, and closes it with a satisfying _click_. It isn’t often that there’s a disaster, but it feels good to deal with one competently. 

“Good job dealing with the elf,” Baekhyun comments, and she looks back over her shoulder with a grin. “She can be a lot sometimes.” 

“She just wants to be babied,” Chanyeol says. “Nothing wrong with that.” 

“You don’t baby _me_.” 

“Do something to deserve getting babied,” Chanyeol says, and she sticks her finger tip in Baekhyun’s glass of water, flicks a droplet at her with a smile. 

Baekhyun sputters, a rarity, and it gives Chanyeol a little thrill as she walks to the beaded curtain.

“Hey.” 

Chanyeol looks back over her shoulder at Baekhyun smiling at her. “What?” 

“Love you, moron,” Baekhyun says, and she quickly turns back to her vanity, delicately pressing the puff to her nose as she hides from Chanyeol’s gaze. 

“Love you too,” Chanyeol smiles.  
  


❈

Things move, time moves, and it carries Chanyeol and Jongdae in the waves. Chanyeol gets more comfortable at the club than she’s ever been before, and even though seeing Jongin still puts the fear of God in her, she’s never been more happy to be someplace. Never felt more like she belonged.

It takes a couple weeks to adjust her schedule to hanging out past three, but she still makes an effort to get up at a _reasonable_ hour, unlike a certain pixie in the household. 

“I’m not getting up,” Jongdae mutters, and her face is squished into her pink silk pillowcase. “You will leave this room immediately, and you will not return.” 

“You’re not magic,” Chanyeol reminds her. 

“I’m a _little_ magic,” Jongdae says, and she raises her hand, sending a puff of sparkling pink smoke into the air. “ _Ta-da._ ” 

“It’s one o’clock.” 

“We got in at _four_ ,” Jongdae reminds her. 

“Whose fault was that?” Chanyeol asks. 

“It was certainly not mine.” 

“Blame it on the dragon,” Chanyeol says. “Always blaming it on her.” 

It wakes Jongdae up a bit, and she pushes herself up to glare at Chanyeol. “I’m just saying, if you’d ever felt a forked tongue, then you would fucking understand my plight.” 

“That is so much more information than I needed,” Chanyeol grimaces. 

“As if you didn’t know I was getting it.” Chanyeol sits down beside her, a hand on her back. She scratches at Jongdae’s wings, gets a satisfied little hum for her efforts. “What are you doing?” 

“I just figure, I dunno, you can only get so wet,” Chanyeol says. 

“Is that an expression?” Jongdae asks. “Because I will have you know it is not the case.” 

“Don’t be gross,” Chanyeol says. “We can talk about her if you want.” 

Jongdae immediately sits up, staring at Chanyeol with wide eyes. “What do you mean?” 

“You know.” She gestures to Jongdae vaguely. “Whatever’s going on between the two of you.” 

“Oh, absolutely not,” Jongdae says, and she flies out of bed, starts pulling on a pair of old sweats. “There will be no conversation about Baekhyun ever.” 

“Why not?” 

“Because there’s no reason for a conversation,” Jongdae says, a vicious smile on her face. “Right?” 

“I think there might be.” 

“Well, you’re wrong. Normal for you, right?” 

“Jongdae,” Chanyeol says. 

“Chanyeol, do not go sticking your nose into this,” Jongdae says. “It is a can of worms.” 

“So, you’re saying you’ve had a conversation with her about this previously?” Chanyeol asks, and she folds her legs into a pretzel on Jongdae’s bed as Jongdae throws on a hoodie. “What came of that?” 

“We’ve never talked about it, and we never will,” Jongdae says. “And that is perfectly healthy and normal.” 

“I mean, I think it’s the literal opposite of healthy, but normal, maybe,” Chanyeol shrugs. 

“Since when do you feel like you’re qualified to be a relationship expert, huh?” Jongdae asks, and she gets into Chanyeol’s face, pressing the tip of her nose against Chanyeol’s. “You stare at the gumiho and say no words.” 

“Yeah, well, that’s because she’s _ethereal_.” 

“And you’re a scrub,” Jongdae scoffs. 

“Yes,” Chanyeol says, relieved, “exactly.” 

“I’m gonna eat you,” Jongdae threatens, and she pushes Chanyeol down onto the bed, climbs over top of her. “Stay out of my business with Baekhyun. Got it?” 

“Why are you so aggressive?” Chanyeol teases. “Did I hit a nerve?” 

Jongdae makes a high-pitched screech, floats off towards the bathroom, and Chanyeol sits up, satisfied. At the very least, she has begun to chip away at something, pushing Jongdae towards what Chanyeol _knows_ she wants. She buys Jongdae breakfast from McDonalds to make it up to her, and after that, all seems to be well.  
  


❈

Every once in a while, there is a slow night. It doesn’t happen exceedingly often, which is why, when it _does_ occur, they take the opportunity to celebrate. Shows go on as scheduled, but later in the evening when the place is empty, they get a bit more lax.

They are drinking around the bar, the girls still all dressed up and the bartenders gone, when Chanyeol feels a tap on her shoulder. 

She turns, and she finds Kyungsoo. 

“Hey,” Chanyeol smiles. “What’s up? Grab a drink.” 

“Kibum needs you,” Kyungsoo says, and she takes the stool next to Chanyeol. “She’s in her office.” 

The girls _ooh_ like they’re all still in grade school, and Chanyeol gets up to face the music.

When she goes into Kibum’s office, she stares down at the person in her seat, back facing Chanyeol. Maybe she made a wrong turn? 

She immediately goes to leave the office, but then, Kibum turns around, her yellow-green bob framing her face prettily. Chanyeol can feel her eyes go wide. 

“Sorry,” Kibum shrugs with a smile. “New look.”

“I-It looks good on you,” Chanyeol says, shocked to find that she isn’t lying. Kibum has the beauty to make any style look good. 

“Hey, thanks,” she says easily, and she stands, her fitted black suit looking exquisite on her frame. She sticks out her hand, matte black coffin nails intimidating as she looks for Chanyeol’s handshake. “Sorry to call you in here like this, I know it can be scary.” 

“No, you’re okay,” Chanyeol says, and when Kibum waves her over to the chair, Chanyeol sits opposite her. “I-Is everything okay?” 

“Everything is just fine,” Kibum says, voice relaxed like she is trying to make sure Chanyeol is comfortable. “Totally cool. As you may or may not be aware, we’ve just passed your one month work-anniversary, so I just wanted to take this opportunity to see how things were going with you.” 

Chanyeol is surprised. She does the quick calculation in her head, and she realizes that Kibum is right. She hadn’t even noticed the time passing, and here she is, feeling as though she’s never wanted to work anywhere else. 

“Cool,” Chanyeol says, and she folds her hands in her lap. “I think things are going well.” 

“Good, good. How would you say you’re enjoying your time here?” Kibum asks, and she leans forward, elbows on her knees, chin in her hands. Her nails frame her face in black, and her eyes are lined in lime green, beautiful and intimidating as always. “On a scale from one to ten, if you need help analyzing your feelings.”

“Uh, I would say an eight?” Chanyeol says. 

“An eight,” Kibum smiles appreciatively, and she leans back in her chair again, swings around to her laptop before tip-tapping away for a moment. “That’s not bad. Any comments, questions, criticisms, concerns? In that order?”

“Uh, I’m having a lot of fun?” Chanyeol says, and Kibum begins to record her words if the frantic typing is any indication. “Um, everyone is really nice. I feel like we’re a family.” 

“You are just, _muah_.” She lifts her hand to her mouth, gives a little chef’s kiss. “Music to my ears, baby.” Chanyeol smiles to herself as Kibum catches up on her words, but she doesn’t have to wait long. “Any problems?” 

Immediately, Chanyeol’s brain leaps to Jongin. Maybe _she’s_ the problem, because she’s been having a tough time focusing on anything besides Jongin. 

“N-No, I don’t think so,” Chanyeol says, and she worries her hands in her lap. “H-How do you think I’ve been doing?” 

Kibum types wordlessly for another moment before she turns. “Are you asking for an evaluation?” 

“I guess?” 

“Oh, fun, it’s been a while since I’ve gotten to judge someone,” Kibum smiles, and Chanyeol finds herself smiling back. “I think you’ve been doing an excellent job here.” 

“Really?” Chanyeol asks. 

“Don’t sound so surprised. I mean, you’ve been making everyone’s lives a lot easier here, including me. The less people complain at me, the better, and I’ve heard, like, zero complaints. That’s good news.” 

“For sure,” Chanyeol says. 

“So relax,” Kibum says, and she reaches forward, balling up her fist to punch Chanyeol in the shoulder lightly. “You’re good here, and we’re good with you.” 

Chanyeol walks out of the office feeling as though she’s on top of the world, finally settling into a groove.  
  


❈

Eventually, the novelty of working at the club wears off. The girls harangue her almost nightly, but Chanyeol stands her ground on most things. Kibum occasionally asks for personal jobs, and Chanyeol takes care of them easily. Kyungsoo has her running back of the house, and Chanyeol takes to it easily, especially after having run stage crew in high school because she had a crush on the lead in the musical.

No matter what her responsibilities become, Chanyeol always sits with the girls in the main dressing room as they get ready for the evening. Not only does it give them a good chance to bond, but she would hate to miss out on gossip and there’s always plenty. 

“There is nothing to tell,” Minseok insists, tongue glancing over her canines as she applies her lipstick. 

“If there was nothing to tell, then why do you look like you just got _fed_?” Baekhyun says, and she gestures lewdly with her hips and hands. 

Chanyeol grins as they turn on Minseok, asking for more details. 

“It’s nothing like that,” Minseok says. “It was just… she needed a place to stay, so I offered—”

“That’s such a classic,” Jongdae says. “Was it a dark and stormy evening? Was she crying at your doorstep? Did she have no one else to turn to but the big, scary vampire lesbian dressed in wine-colored satin?” 

“I’m not big or scary,” Minseok frowns, and Junmyeon reaches over, pets her back. “I was just being _nice_. Not everything is filthy.” 

“It’s only filthy if you’re not doing it right, hey-o,” Baekhyun says, and she stretches her hand up as if she expects Jongdae to high five over Minseok’s head. “What, you’re gonna leave me hanging? On this day?” 

“What’s this day?” Yixing asks. 

“Pussy Friday,” Baekhyun says, and she flips her hair even though it’s all pinned up. “It’s a weekly holiday.” 

“Who instituted that?” Junmyeon wonders. “Why wasn’t anyone alerted?” 

Baekhyun looks at Jongdae, eyes slipping up and down her body. “The relevant people were, I can assure you.” 

Chanyeol and Sehun groan, and Sehun turns back to her vanity. 

“Help me with my tape,” Sehun says, and Chanyeol positions herself behind Sehun’s body. Chanyeol doesn’t even know why she bothers, her bone structure is already so perfect that Chanyeol doesn’t think she needs it, but still, she volunteers her help. 

Sehun secures the tape by her temples and under her jaw, and with Chanyeol’s help, they hook the bands back. They’re just about to finish up when they hear the rainstick sound of the beaded curtain moving, and everyone looks back together. 

“Hi.” 

They all turn to see Jongin standing there in her robe, hair flowing like silk over her shoulder. She brushes it back, smiles, and Chanyeol can’t help but drop what she’s doing. 

“Hey,” Sehun says, and she smacks Chanyeol with the back of her hand. “You’ve got a job to do here.” 

Chanyeol hurriedly goes back to what she was doing, but she keeps an ear open as she works, trying to listen in on the conversation behind her. 

“Does anyone have brow gel?” Jongin asks. “I’m all out.” 

“I’ve got s—,” Junmyeon starts, but then she cuts herself off mid sentence. “Actually, I’m all out.” 

“I’m all natural,” Yixing says. 

“You hairspray the _shit_ out of your eyebrows to get them all wolfy,” Jongdae accuses. 

“Well, whatever,” Yixing sneers. “Close enough. No brow gel.” 

“Are you looking for clear or colored?” Minseok asks. 

“Clear, preferably,” Jongin says. 

“Damn,” Baekhyun says. “I’ve only got black.” 

“Brown,” Minseok says, and Chanyeol looks over, sees her frown. “Sorry.” 

Sehun sharply clears her throat, and everyone looks over. 

“I think Chanyeol has some in the emergency box, don’t you?” Sehun offers. 

“U-Uh, yeah,” Chanyeol says, and she finishes up with Sehun’s tape before heading over to the box. “Hold on just a second.” 

She hustles as she sorts through the various items before grabbing the little makeup bag at the bottom, and when she pulls out the brow gel, it feels like she’s found gold. She stands up, hands the tube to Jongin, and for a second, their hands brush. Warmth surges through Chanyeol’s body, and she can’t help but smile, biting her lip when Jongin smiles back at her. 

“Ah, God, this is so wonderful,” Jongin says. “And I’m so sorry, I know I should be more careful about this kind of thing but—”

“It’s totally cool,” Chanyeol says, and she kicks the box with the toe of her boot. “That’s why it’s here. For you guys to use it.” 

Jongin smiles at her, and Chanyeol is transfixed by her, in awe of her, illuminated by Jongin’s light. In a lot of ways, Jongin is like a star, so bright that it hurts to look at her, so enrapturing and beautiful that you can’t look away. 

“I’ll replace it,” Jongin promises, and she clutches the little tube to her chest. “I will. Tomorrow even!” 

“Take your time,” Chanyeol says, and she untucks the hair from behind her ears. “I mean, it’s no rush or anything.” 

“What if I need it tomorrow?” Baekhyun needles. 

“Suck it up,” Chanyeol shouts before turning back to Jongin. “Thank you.” 

“Thank _you_ ,” Jongin smiles, and she faces the rest of the girls. “See you ladies in a bit.” 

The chorus chimes as she parts the beaded curtain, heading back to her room, and Chanyeol stands there for several seconds in awe of her beauty, her elegance, her loveliness. Shaking her head just a bit, she goes back to take her seat at Sehun’s side, but she finds her laughing. 

“What?” 

“You’re so embarrassing,” Sehun smiles. 

“What’s embarrassing?” Chanyeol asks. “What did I do?” 

“You look at Jongin like she’s the only person in the entire universe,” Junmyeon says, sighing happily. “Like she’s the only person you’ve ever seen before.” 

“Oh, stop.” Chanyeol pushes her hair behind her ear, pulling it back out nervously. “I don’t look at her like that.” 

“We’re not blind, you know,” Yixing says. “Like, we do have senses. We have the ability to observe you.” 

“ _Stop_ ,” Chanyeol whines. 

“It’s cute that you think you’re being subtle though,” Yixing smiles. “I love that.” 

She’s got a crush, that much she knew, but the fact that everyone knows, that it’s an open secret… that sets Chanyeol on edge. She figures she needs to get her feelings in order, stop making such a mess of things. 

Sehun nudges her, and Chanyeol squints. “What?” 

“You’re not being weird,” Sehun tells her. “It’s cool to have a crush.” 

Chanyeol bites her lip. Sehun is right. Nothing will ever come of it, and as long as she isn’t harming anyone or anything, there isn’t anything wrong with liking someone so much you feel like throwing up every time they’re near you.  
  


❈

Chanyeol knocks on Jongin’s door a couple evenings later, and she waits patiently, her hands behind her back. It only takes a moment before Jongin opens the door, smiles at her. Jongin has the tendency of doing that, making Chanyeol feel like she’s special, and that’s Chanyeol’s fatal flaw… believing her.

“Hi,” Jongin smiles. 

“Hi,” Chanyeol says. “How are you?” 

“I’m doing very well, thank you. How about you?” 

“Can’t complain,” Chanyeol says, trying to act as casual as she wishes she could be. “Drinks for this evening. Water with lemon?” 

Jongin tilts her head to the side, a charming little action on its own made all the more charming when a little piece of her hair falls into her face. She brushes it away carelessly, lovely in even the smallest action. “Actually, could I get a glass of champagne?” 

It immediately catches Chanyeol by surprise. Ever since she started, she’s never seen Jongin drink anything alcoholic. On occasion, she’ll have a glass of ginger ale, on rare Fridays, a gin and tonic, but mostly, she sticks to water with various forms of citrus as a garnish. Chanyeol stands a little straighter, a smile slapped on her face. 

“O-Oh, sure,” Chanyeol says. “Is it, uh, is it a special occasion or something?” 

“It’s my birthday,” Jongin says, and she holds a delicate finger to her lips. “But don’t tell anyone. They make a big deal out of birthdays. Our little secret, okay?” 

Chanyeol bites her lip, puts her hair back behind her ear before pulling it back out again. “Yeah, that’s cool.” 

Jongin winks at her, and it nearly knocks her off her feet. She hurries away from Jongin’s dressing room before she nearly collapses. Shaking some sense into herself, she goes and prepares the drinks for the girls. When she gets back to Jongin’s room, she knocks gently. 

Jongin pulls the door open with a smile, and she takes the glass of champagne when Chanyeol hands it to her. Their fingers brush, and Chanyeol feels little bubbling sparks rise to the top of her skin. 

“Thank you,” Jongin smiles, and she bats her lashes before looking back up into Chanyeol’s eyes. “I really appreciate it.” 

“Y-Yeah, of course,” Chanyeol says. “And, uh, happy birthday.” 

“Thank you.” 

The door closes, and Chanyeol stands there for several seconds, grinning at nothing before she gets herself together and goes back to work.  
  


❈

They dance around each other for what feels like forever, but Chanyeol is terrible at gauging people’s interest in her. She can never tell for sure if someone likes her or is just a nice person overall, and she’d rather err on the side of caution than jump in headfirst and land on concrete.

“Oh, please,” Jongdae says. “Do you think _I_ like you?” 

“No,” Chanyeol answers. 

“Do you think _I_ like you?” Junmyeon asks. 

“No.” 

“Do you think _I_ like you?” Baekhyun asks. 

“You aren’t nice to me,” Chanyeol says. “Why would I think you liked me?” 

Jongdae laughs, and Chanyeol smiles at her.

“My point is that we cannot live like this any longer,” Baekhyun says. “We need there to be some plot between the two of you.” 

“This is not a piece of your fanfiction,” Jongdae says. 

“I’m _aware_ of that,” Baekhyun says, and she throws her beauty blender at Jongdae’s head. “If it _was_ my fanfiction, everyone would be screwing, and _you_ ,” she says, pointing to Jongdae, “would be eating this c—”

“God, enough,” Sehun says. “I don’t want to hear about your theoretical orgy.” 

“You don’t?” Yixing asks. “I do. Am I a bottom or a top?” 

“You’re a power bottom,” Jongdae comments. “Obviously.” 

“How is that obvious?” 

“Look at you,” Jongdae says. 

“This is offensive,” Junmyeon sings. 

“Because you’re a bottom too?” 

“News flash, girl,” Sehun says. “You’re all bottoms.” 

“Like _you_ aren’t included,” Jongdae scoffs. 

“Back to what matters,” Baekhyun says, waving her hands in the air like she’s trying to fight the oxygen. “We’ve gotta move things along.” 

“What are you talking about?” Chanyeol asks. 

“You and the ‘ho,” Baekhyun says. 

“Oh, not this again,” Yixing says. “I’m out.” 

“You can’t escape the _sisterhood_ ,” Jongdae shouts. “We are your blood. We are your _pack_.” 

Yixing turns, squints at her. “Don’t start with me, fairy.” 

“Pointed, _mean-spirited_ harassment? At a time like this?” Jongdae screeches. “I’m a _pixie_ , and I would prefer to be called as such!” 

“My point,” Baekhyun shrieks. “My _point_!” 

“God, what _is_ your point?” Chanyeol says. 

“She wants to set you two up,” Junmyeon smiles. “So if that’s not something you’re interested in, you better cut this Baekhyun train of thought off at this particular station.” 

Chanyeol hides her face in her hands. 

“That’s not a no!” Baekhyun shouts. “It’s not a negatory!” 

“It’s also not a _yes_ ,” Yixing says. 

“What, do _you_ have a crush on the gumiho?” Jongdae asks, turning on Yixing. “Why are you so antagonistic? Full moon?” 

“See, this is what I get for trying to make sure the new girl is _comfortable_ before you all start meddling in her affairs,” Yixing says, and she points at Chanyeol. “I don’t care what you do! I just don’t want you to file a lawsuit!” 

“I wouldn’t… I won’t do that,” Chanyeol says. “I promise.” 

“Oh, why do you look like you’re about to cry?” Yixing says, furrowing her brow. 

“You’ve upset her!” Baekhyun says. 

“Feral,” Jongdae snorts. 

“That’s it,” Yixing says, and she stands up, putting her hair up into a wild bun. “Let’s fight.” 

Jongdae bursts into a fit of laughter as Yixing stalks over and begins to tickle her. Chanyeol has never been more confused, but she’s just happy that they’re not actually fighting. 

“I yield,” Jongdae screeches. “I _yield._ ” 

“Anyway,” Baekhyun says, getting a little too close to Chanyeol for comfort. “Are you cool with me meddling?” 

“I—I just don’t know if it’s a good idea,” Chanyeol says, and she twists her hands in front of her. “She’s kinda, like, so out of my league.” 

“With that attitude, absolutely,” Jongdae says, and she floats over to the corner of the room where Yixing can’t reach her. 

“Yeah, there’s something to be said for positive thinking,” Junmyeon comments. “Positive energy, all that stuff.” 

“What, so now I have to be _happy_ before anything good happens to me?” Chanyeol says. “Pass.” 

Sehun snorts, and Chanyeol gives her a smile. 

“I just think you should give it a shot,” Junmyeon says. “Let _her_ shoot you down, don’t do it for her.” 

Chanyeol furrows her brow, thinks about it for a moment. Junmyeon is, like, kind of right. The worst thing that could happen would be if Jongin wasn’t interested in her, and she’s already sort of operating under that assumption, so she’s already at a worst case scenario. If she was wrong, if Jongin _was_ or _could be_ interested in her, then maybe… 

“Okay,” Chanyeol says. “I-If you guys wanna meddle, then—” 

Baekhyun and Jongdae jointly unleash an ear splitting scream, and Yixing, seemingly against her will, joins in with a howl. It makes Baekhyun and Jongdae erupt into laughter, and Yixing stalks over before slapping them both on the arms repeatedly. 

“It’s not _funny_ ,” Yixing says. “I told you, it’s an _evolutionary_ thing.” 

The evening goes on, but the only thing Chanyeol can think about is what might happen, what the future might hold when she’s got so many mythics on her side.  
  


❈

At the end of the night, Jongin comes out of her dressing room last, same as always. The rest of them are hanging around the bar, decompressing, but even the sight of Jongin makes Chanyeol sit up a little straighter.

“Movie night,” Baekhyun yells, and she points to Sehun, Jongin, Chanyeol, and herself. “Tomorrow night. Pizza. Popcorn. _Pride and Prejudice_.”

“Which version?” Sehun asks. 

“Uh, both?” Baekhyun says. “Duh?” 

“Oh,” Jongin says, and she takes the stool next to Kyungsoo. “That sounds nice. I’m in.” 

Baekhyun rounds on her, and from behind, she starts using what appears to be sign language so that Jongin can’t see her. 

“Actually, fuck, I just remembered. I can’t go,” Sehun says with a frown. “Mark me down for next time, okay?” 

“Sure,” Chanyeol says, and she feels like she has some vague idea of where this is going. 

“Oh, actually, now that I’m thinking about it, I can’t make it either,” Baekhyun frowns, and she takes Jongin's shoulders in her hands, massaging them quickly. “Sorry.” 

“You’re the one who set this up,” Jongin says, bemused. 

“Yeah, but that’s no reason you guys shouldn’t hang out without us,” Sehun says. 

Jongin looks at Chanyeol, and for a split second, Chanyeol thinks she might see through this charade. 

“Yeah,” Jongin says, shrugging one of her shoulders with a smile. “Why not?” 

Chanyeol nearly swallows her tongue, but she gives her best effort to smile back normally. “Okay. T-Then tomorrow at my place?” 

“Yeah,” Jongin smiles. “Sounds good.” 

Behind Jongin’s back, Baekhyun begins to make lewd gestures, and Chanyeol dutifully looks away, the heat rising to her ears as she daydreams about a movie date.  
  


❈

Chanyeol has no idea what to wear to a casual hang session, so she enlists Jongdae’s help.

“Well, of course,” Jongdae says, fluttering in front of Chanyeol’s closet, “I’m the only one qualified to help in this regard.” 

“Shut up,” Chanyeol says, “I could easily call Baekhyun. Or Junmyeon!” 

“Now, now,” Jongdae says. “Don’t be testy. Sit and let the master do her work.” 

Chanyeol dutifully sits on the bed, legs spread wide as she watches Jongdae turn her nose up at nearly all of Chanyeol’s wardrobe. It isn’t until she gets to the very back that she gasps happily, holding up a vintage band t-shirt that doesn’t fit Chanyeol anymore. 

“Absolutely not,” Chanyeol says. “I don’t feel comfortable in it.” 

“Which is exactly why you’re gonna wear it.” 

“ _Jongdae_ ,” Chanyeol whines. 

“Don’t be a baby,” Jongdae says. “Have you ever had an acrylic ripped off?” 

“What?” 

“Ever gotten anything waxed?” 

“No, but what does that have to do with anything?” Chanyeol asks. 

“We put up with a lot for the people we love,” Jongdae says. “The least you can do for this _gumiho_ , she’s a literal _gumiho_ by the way, is wear a shirt that actually fits.” 

Chanyeol pouts. She’s right. “Fine.” 

“Good, okay,” Jongdae says, breathing out like she’s relieved. “Now, pants.” 

“Sweats,” Chanyeol says. 

“I swear t—no, Chanyeol, not sweats,” Jongdae says. 

“I gave you the shirt. Can’t I at least be a little comfortable?” 

“Leggings,” Jongdae bargains. 

“The shirt is too small for leggings! It won’t cover my butt!” 

“So?” 

“So, what if she sees my panty lines?” 

“Wear a thong,” Jongdae says simply. 

“I don’t own a _thong_ ,” Chanyeol says, vaguely offended that Jongdae would even suggest it. 

“Freeball it, then.” 

“Oh my God, you’re out to _get_ me,” Chanyeol accuses. 

“God, fine,” Jongdae says, throwing up her hands. “At the very least, you will wear a pair of jeans.” 

“J—Now, jeans are okay for a couple hours,” Chanyeol smiles. 

“Get dressed,” Jongdae says, and she throws the clothes in Chanyeol’s general direction. “I don’t even wanna look at your smug face.” 

Chanyeol heads into the bathroom and puts the clothes on as Jongdae sings some operatic aria in the bedroom. It helps to distract Chanyeol from just how uncomfortable she is in the t-shirt, but only a bit. 

She stands there on the cold tile, staring at herself in the mirror. The shirt hugs her body, and she makes a noise of disdain. Chanyeol then works her fists under the t-shirt, pushing out from her body, stretching the fabric until the seams start hissing at her. 

“What’s taking so long?” Jongdae asks. 

“Nothing,” Chanyeol says. “I’m coming out.” 

She opens the door, and Jongdae is lying across the bed on her stomach, wings fluttering behind her as she reads Chanyeol’s bullet journal.

“Okay,” Chanyeol says. “Ready to be dolled.” 

Jongdae looks up from the book, and her expression changes. “What did you do to it?” 

“I made it more comfortable.” 

“You stretched the living hell out of it.” 

“Yeah, more comfortable,” Chanyeol smiles. 

“Ugh, whatever,” Jongdae says. “Get on the bed, and close your eyes.” 

“I really don’t like the sound of this.” 

“Suck it up, princess. You’re the one who asked for _my_ help.”  
  


❈

Over the course of the next hour, Jongdae directs Chanyeol with an iron fist. She holds her by the jaw, she holds her eyelids open, and she even pinches her cheeks.

“The most beautiful color blush is _natural_ blush,” Jongdae says. 

“Then explain why you have eight different colored blushes lined up,” Chanyeol says. “I don’t understand this at all.” 

“We know, girl,” Jongdae says, and she swirls her big squirrel-hair brush in a red colored blush pan. “And it was so that I could get an idea of what color would look best on you. Don’t like it? Go pay for a makeup artist.” 

Jongdae pops her right above the apples of her cheeks with the blush, and Chanyeol squints as she does it. 

“Keep tensing up,” Jongdae warns. 

“I’m not doing it on _purpose_ ,” Chanyeol says. “You’re just really rough.” 

“Keep it up,” Jongdae sings. “I’ll make you look like a clown.”

“No, please.” 

“I’m serious.” 

“I’m shutting up.” 

“Good girl,” Jongdae says. “I’m working on my masterpiece.” 

Chanyeol can’t help herself. She smiles.  
  


❈

She stares at herself in the mirror after Jongdae is finished straightening her hair. It’s pin-straight, glossy, and soft. She doesn’t know how Jongdae managed that. Her eyes look bigger than normal, rimmed in soft earth-toned colors, smoked out towards her perfectly sculpted brows. Her lips are glossy and blush-colored, and when she turns to the side, the light hits her cheek, practically blinding her.

Objectively, she looks beautiful. More beautiful than she’s ever looked before. 

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol frowns. She doesn’t mean to seem ungrateful. After all, Jongdae spent her time helping, it’s just… “I don’t really feel like myself.” 

“That’s a good thing,” Jongdae says. “You look hot.” 

“I feel ridiculous.” 

“It’s part of the appeal,” Jongdae says. “No one likes a self-effacing woman, and you are the most self-effaced.”

Chanyeol deepens the frown just a little more, and Jongdae floats in the air, hovering on her beating wings. She puts her hands on Chanyeol’s shoulders, massages like Chanyeol is a boxer between rounds. 

“You got this,” Jongdae cheers. “It’s casual.” 

“It’s casual,” Chanyeol repeats. 

“It’s totally cool.”

“It’s totally cool,” Chanyeol tells herself. 

“You’re a strong woman,” Jongdae says. 

“I’m a strong woman.” 

“And if you want pussy, you’ll get it.” Chanyeol turns, squints at Jongdae. “It’s called positive energy, queen.” 

“That’s not really the energy I need going into a _casual_ hangout,” Chanyeol screeches. “I need casual energy.” 

“Right, right,” Jongdae says, and she continues to massage her shoulders. “Casual cunnilingus.” 

“Okay, get out,” Chanyeol says, and she wheels around, starts swatting her out of the air. 

“This is the thanks I get?” 

“Get out of the apartment,” Chanyeol says. “You said you’d leave.” 

“I’m going, I’m going,” Jongdae smiles. “Text me if you need a rescue.” 

Chanyeol’s heart clenches in her chest. “Okay. Thanks.” 

“Love you,” Jongdae sings, and just like that, she is flying towards the door, leaving Chanyeol on her own. 

She doesn’t know what she was thinking. She’s not prepared for something like this. Jongin is smart, funny, caring, considerate, fun to be around, sweet, an absolute angel to everyone she meets. On top of all that, she’s drop-dead gorgeous, and she’s got nine tails. She is Chanyeol’s perfect woman, and Chanyeol is just… Chanyeol. 

Just as she is about to absolutely lose her mind, her phone buzzes on her night table. She hurries over to grab it, nervously tucking her hair behind her ear as she sees Jongin’s name on the preview. 

_On my way now_ , she writes. _should I pick up a pizza now or should we order when I get there?_

_up to you_ , Chanyeol texts back, knowing in her heart of hearts that she would give Jongin absolutely anything she asked for, pizza included.  
  


❈

She buzzes Jongin up a little later, and her hands won’t stop sweating. She’s got no idea what she was thinking. She’s not capable of achieving cool, certainly not when Jongin is involved. Her head goes completely empty, she’s got no thoughts. All she can think is _God, she’s incredible, and I really shouldn’t even be thinking about the possibility of us together._

Chanyeol stands back, looking at their apartment with a fresh set of eyes. Jongdae mostly took care of the common areas, so it looks nice, like it’s been professionally decorated. There are vases of fake flowers because neither of them can take care of plants, and everything is relatively neat. She knits her hands together nervously in front of her body, and she whips back around at the sound of knocking at the door. 

Chanyeol unlatches and unlocks the door, opens it to reveal Jongin standing there with a pizza box and a smile. She is gorgeous, impossibly so, and Chanyeol nearly falls over at the sight of her. She looks relaxed but still beautiful, wearing a pair of dark wash boyfriend jeans cuffed at the bottoms, a pair of Converse, an oversized graphic tee. Her hair is pulled up into an artfully styled messy bun, and she’s wearing glasses, though Chanyeol can’t say for certain whether or not she actually needs them. More importantly, she’s wearing no makeup. Her skin glows, healthy and dewy, and her lips look like she swiped on Chapstick before she walked out of the door. 

If she was trying to look casual, she did a wonderful job. Chanyeol suddenly feels like she’s way overdone, and she nervously pushes her hair back behind her ear. 

“Hi,” Jongin says. “Can I come in?” 

“Oh, yeah, duh,” Chanyeol says, and she steps to the side, lets Jongin in. “Sorry, you can put that down on the table.” 

“Cool, thanks.” 

Jongin steps back, looks around. “Wow, it’s pretty.” She looks at Chanyeol, gives her a smile.” 

“Uh, no, it’s not me. It’s, um… Jongdae is, like, pretty good at that kind of thing,” Chanyeol says, and she goes to the refrigerator. “Do you want anything to drink?” 

“Sure,” Jongin says. “Do you have beer?” 

Chanyeol looks back. “Uh, yeah. You want one?” 

Jongin’s tails perk up, all nine of them fanning behind her back. “Is that okay?” 

“I just didn’t really think you drank,” Chanyeol says, and she grabs two tallboys from the fridge before kicking it closed behind her. 

“I definitely don’t drink _a lot_ ,” Jongin smiles. “Especially not at the club.” 

“Why?” Chanyeol pops the tab on Jongin’s beer before offering it to her. 

“I dunno, I just feel like I have an obligation,” Jongin shrugs, and she takes it, holds it cutely between her hands. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Just to be… perfect,” Jongin smiles, and she shakes her head. “I dunno. That’s so stupid, isn’t it?” 

“I don’t think it’s stupid,” Chanyeol says. 

Jongin looks down at her hands, smiles before looking up at Chanyeol. “You don’t think?” 

“No, I don’t think so.” 

Jongin breathes in, breathes out like she’s focusing her energy before smiling up at Chanyeol. 

“Cheers?” 

Chanyeol bites her lip and tips the mouth of her can forward until Jongin meets it with her own. “Cheers.” 

Jongin smiles, tails swishing happily behind her as they both take their first sip, bursting with bubbles. Chanyeol wrinkles her nose. 

“S-So, uh, sorry if this is weird,” Chanyeol says, and she holds the beer between her hands. 

“No, no, oh my God,” Jongin says. “I’ve wanted to do something like this for a while.” 

“O-Oh,” Chanyeol says. “Really?” 

“Yeah, I don’t go… I don’t get out much, to be honest.” 

“I thought you would.” 

Jongin makes a strange face, one Chanyeol’s never seen her make before. “Why would you think that?” 

“I dunno,” Chanyeol says. “I mean, I didn’t mean it in a bad way or anything, just like—,” and she pauses, hoping that Jongin will rescue her, interrupt, but no such rescue or interruption occurs. “Just, you’re pretty, and, like, popular and stuff. So I thought, you know, that’s what pretty and popular people do.” 

“Oh my God,” Jongin says, and a pretty blush streaks across her face, and she takes another sip of her beer, gasping. “That’s not… you’re very sweet, though.” She turns back to the pizza. “We should eat before it gets cold.” 

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Chanyeol says, and she grabs some plates, and they take their food out to the living room. “You definitely want to do _Pride and Prejudice_? I mean, Baekhyun’s not here. We can watch whatever we want.” 

“Well,” Jongin says, and she tugs her legs up under her body as she sits there, her tails building like a little blanket around her, “if you’re giving me the option…” 

“And I am.” 

Jongin looks over with a bright, blinding smile. “Have you ever watched _Princess Mononoke_?” 

“I’m a weeb,” Chanyeol admits, and Jongin laughs, “so yes.” 

“Could we watch that?” Jongin asks. “It’s one of my favorite movies.” 

And there’s something intimate about sharing their favorite movie with you, letting you watch it alongside them. It feels like something meaningful, something special. Chanyeol wouldn’t ever turn something like that down. No way. 

She navigates to her streaming service, quickly types in _prin—_ before selecting the movie. It takes only a second to buffer before the screen is bathed in the cool blue of the Studio Ghibli title screen, and then, the haunting strings begin, the crows singing along with them. The mountain range is lovely but grey and sad, and Chanyeol settles back into the cushion of the couch as she takes another sip of her beer. 

Her thigh is pressed against Jongin’s, and the warmth is overwhelming. Chanyeol doesn’t think she’s ever wanted something as much as she wants this… the pleasant, undeniably coziness of someone like Jongin next to her. Taking up her space. 

She looks over, and Jongin is slowly lifting her slice of pizza to her mouth, almost dazed as she is completely enraptured by the film, like it’s her first time seeing it. 

There is heat, deep within winter. 

“Good?” Chanyeol asks, and she watches Jongin watch the movie raptly. 

“Really good,” Jongin says, her eyes never leaving the screen. 

Chanyeol looks back to the film, takes a bite of her pizza, and settles back in, wondering how she will be able to keep her focus on Ashitaka instead of on Jongin beside her.  
  


❈

It is even more difficult than Chanyeol thought it would be. They work their way through two beers each, and Chanyeol dutifully pauses whenever either of them has to get up. Jongin keeps her commentary low, almost at a reverent whisper, and Chanyeol can’t help but find that extremely endearing.

The movie passes much too quickly for Chanyeol’s liking, and she half wishes she had told Jongin to pick something longer just so that they could stay in the little bubble they’ve made for themselves. 

When the credits roll, Jongin looks at Chanyeol with a pleased smile, stretching her arms up above her head. 

“Ah,” Jongin gasps, and she sinks back into the couch a little, her stretch broken. “Thank you.” 

“For what?” Chanyeol laughs. “I love that movie.” 

“I know, it’s just… always nice to share something like that with someone else,” Jongin says. “I watch it about once a year, but—” 

“It’s better with somebody else,” Chanyeol nods. “Yeah, I… I know what you mean.” 

Jongin clicks the button on her phone, and Chanyeol’s heart drops a little. She wishes Jongin didn’t have to go. She wishes they could continue hanging out.

“I should probably head out,” Jongin says, and she frowns a little. “It’s getting late and… you know, work.” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol smiles. “Uh, you’re good to drive, right?” 

“I took the subway,” Jongin nods, but she laughs. “Even if I drove, though… alcohol doesn’t really affect me like that.” 

“Oh, no?” 

“No,” Jongin says. “I mostly just get, like, the good parts. The happy parts of alcohol. And it takes a lot more to get me drunk.” 

“I will… keep that in mind,” Chanyeol smiles. 

Jongin reaches out, punches Chanyeol in the shoulder, and Chanyeol distantly wishes that she could hold her there, keep them touching forever. 

“This was nice,” Jongin says, and her tails swish behind her happily. “We should definitely do it again sometime.” 

Chanyeol’s heart leaps into her mouth. “Y-Yeah, totally. I would love that.” 

“And we could invite the rest of the girls too,” Jongin smiles, nervously playing with one of her tails, fluffing it up behind her. 

Chanyeol’s heart sinks into her stomach. Vaguely, she knew that this was a possibility. After all, _she_ was the one stressing that it was just a friendly thing, but still… Chanyeol thought it went well. She thought it might lead to something. Could possibly lead to something. 

Even so, she has learned to love Jongin. If friends is all they’ll ever be, then she’s got something that most people don’t. 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol nods. “That sounds fun.” 

Jongin smiles at her before opening her arms, leaping into Chanyeol’s embrace. The breath nearly knocked out of her, Chanyeol gasps, arms coming to rest around Jongin’s waist, hands brushing against the fur of her tails. 

“Thank you for asking me to hang out,” Jongin says. “I’ve been meaning to work up the courage to talk to you for weeks.” 

“W-What are you talking about?” Chanyeol says, heart limboing between her organs. “What would you need courage for?” 

“All the girls talk about how funny and sweet you are,” Jongin says, and she puts her face into Chanyeol’s shoulder. “And I never got a chance to really talk to you. I mean, we talk, but not like this, you know?” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry.” 

“What are you sorry for?” Jongin asks, and she pulls away from Chanyeol, looks into her eyes, makes it _that_ much more impossible to tell her the truth. 

“I dunno,” Chanyeol says, hoping that, in some stroke of luck, Jongin can hear her thinking _I’m sorry because I didn’t want to make things awkward between us and I feel like, eventually, I will make things terrible._

“Ah, then you shouldn’t apologize.” 

Chanyeol bites her lip. “‘Kay.” 

Jongin smiles, and absently, almost like she isn’t even controlling the movement, one of her tails stretches up to brush Chanyeol’s hair off her shoulder. “Thanks again.” 

“No problem,” Chanyeol says. “Text me when you get home, okay?” 

“‘Kay,” Jongin smiles. “I will.” 

Jongin does as she says she’ll do, texts Chanyeol as soon as she’s in, and Chanyeol flops down in bed without changing. She puts her hands on her stomach, stares up at her ceiling. 

Jongdae comes in later in the evening, knocking softly at her door before flying in. 

“Are you lying in the dark because you’re asleep,” she asks quietly, “or because it went super bad?” 

“Neither,” Chanyeol says. 

“Honey,” Jongdae says, and she flaps her wings, settles next to Chanyeol on the bed. “Tell me what’s wrong.” 

“Nothing,” Chanyeol tells her, smiling sadly. “It went… it went really well. I had a really good time.” 

“But?” 

“But I just don’t think she likes me like that. Or… I don’t think she’ll _ever_ like me like that.” 

“Babe,” Jongdae says. “ _Babe._ ” 

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol says. “I’m just feeling bad for myself for no reason.” 

“It’s not no reason.” 

“It’s stupid,” Chanyeol says. 

“It’s _not._ ” 

“I’m impatient,” Chanyeol says. 

“When she’s got a body like that, how could I blame you?” Jongdae smiles, and it makes Chanyeol spit out a laugh. “Ah, see. There’s my girl.” 

“Tell me it will take time,” Chanyeol says. 

“It will take time.” 

“Tell me things won’t happen overnight.” 

“Things won’t happen overnight.” 

“Tell me it would be worth it even if she never falls in love with me,” Chanyeol says. 

“Oh, it will definitely be worth it,” Jongdae says, and she lies down next to Chanyeol, knocking her head against Chanyeol’s. “Definitely, _definitely_ worth it.”  
  


❈

Baekhyun corners Chanyeol the next evening as she’s on her way back from the bathroom.

“Closet,” Baekhyun says. “Now.” 

“I have to get towels anyway,” Chanyeol says. “This is very convenient.” 

“I’m a dragon,” Baekhyun says, and she drags her by the arm over to the closet before pushing her inside. “Piss on your convenience.” 

“You’re a _shapeshifter_ ,” Chanyeol corrects, “who _favors_ the form of a dragon.” 

“I don’t wanna hear it, you’re a normie who doesn’t know anything about my kind.” She taps her foot. “Tell me everything.” 

Chanyeol shrugs. “There’s nothing really to tell. We watched a movie. We had fun.” 

“And did you eat her ass?” Baekhyun asks. 

Chanyeol spits out a laugh. “I ate pizza.” 

“Okay, but after the pizza, did you eat her ass?” 

“What is your preoccupation with rimming?” Chanyeol wonders, and she grabs a stack of clean towels from the high shelf. 

“I think it’s a cornerstone of a healthy sexual relationship,” Baekhyun says, and she folds her arms across her chest. “So, what are you saying? You didn’t fuck around at _all_?” 

“Yes,” Chanyeol says. 

“You did?” 

“ _No_ ,” Chanyeol clarifies, growing exasperated. “ _Yes_ , that’s what I’m saying. We didn’t fuck around.” 

“You’re bad at communication,” Baekhyun says. 

Chanyeol snorts. “That’s rich.” 

“Oh, so now it’s like that,” Baekhyun says. “It’s like _that_ , huh?” 

“Well, when the shoe fits,” Chanyeol says. 

“Fuck you, I am Cinderella’s evil stepsister. The shoe does _not_ fit. You’d have to cut off my toes to make it fit.” 

“What’s going on with you two anyway?” Chanyeol wonders. “Are you guys, like, together?” 

“What? Ew. _Together?_ ” Baekhyun says, and Chanyeol tries to move past her but Baekhyun sticks her arm out to practically clothesline her before leaning against the wall, faux-casual. “Why, uh, did Jongdae say anything about it?” 

“No, she’s just as emotionally stunted as you are,” Chanyeol says. “Now, please, if you wouldn’t mind, I have to get these to the bar.” 

Suddenly, the door opens, and Chanyeol gasps. 

“Oh,” Jongin says, and she turns away like she’s just seen someone naked, a hand slapped to cover her eyes before she peeks out, sees them both clothed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt the two of you.” 

“Well, you know us,” Baekhyun says, and she turns to let her fingertips dance along Jongin’s neckline. “Very obviously in a sexual relationship. Me and…,” and she looks back at Chanyeol, smiles, “Chanyeol.” 

“N-Nothing was happening,” Chanyeol says, and she holds up the stack of towels in her hands. “I was getting towels. She followed me in.” 

“Oh, it’s all right,” Jongin smiles, and she waves her hands around. “I had a feeling you two… well, you know.” 

Chanyeol nearly chokes. 

“Wait, are you joking?” Baekhyun says. “Me and _Chanyeol_? You know I’m fucking Jongdae, right?” 

“I don’t know the ins and outs of your relationships,” Jongin says. 

“Yeah, neither does she,” Chanyeol sneers. 

“You’re calling me a _slut_ ,” Baekhyun says, and she pokes Jongin in the shoulder. “How dare you? I’m gonna report you.” 

“Last week, you called me a snot-nosed skank,” Chanyeol says. 

“Well, were you being a snot-nosed skank?” She looks Chanyeol up and down. “You were probably being a skank, and you’re _always_ snot-nosed.”

Chanyeol absently reaches up to rub at her nose, wrinkling her brow when she finds it dry. 

“I just came by for a towel,” Jongin interrupts, and she smiles through her lashes at Chanyeol. “Could I…?” 

“Y-Yeah, sure,” Chanyeol says, and she offers Jongin the towel off the top. “Seriously, uh, there’s nothing between us.”

“Whatever you say,” Jongin smiles coyly, and she walks away without another word. 

Chanyeol rounds on Baekhyun. 

“Wow, you’re really tall,” Baekhyun says, and she squares up to Chanyeol. “You know I can breathe _fire_ , right?” 

“This is all your fault!” Chanyeol says. “She… she thinks we’re—”

“Humping,” Baekhyun says, and Chanyeol frowns, crinkles her nose. “Listen, I am a fucking _catch_.” 

Chanyeol glares at her. “Fix this.” 

“There’s nothing to fix,” Baekhyun shrugs. “Jealousy is always good for a fledgling relationship.” 

“Do you honestly think that?” 

“The last time I flirted with Sehun, Jongdae edged me for an hour before she let me cum. Hardest nut of my fucking _life_ ,” Baekhyun says. “What’s better than that?” 

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol whines. “Please, I… I really like her.” 

“Fine, fine,” Baekhyun says. “I’ll talk to her.” 

“No!” Chanyeol screeches. 

Baekhyun leans back, offended. “You’re giving me mixed messages here.” 

“Just… what should I do? Help me.” 

Just then, Chanyeol hears her name being called in her earpiece, and she groans. 

“Go, go,” Baekhyun says. “I’ll round up the girls. We’ll formulate a plan.” Light bursts onto her face, a beautiful smile streaking across her like a comet. “Oh, you know what that means?” 

“What?” 

“A mission,” she answers. “And you know what a mission means? I get to think up a mission name.”  
  


❈

Baekhyun pulls her over after the night is through, and she sits her down in the chair next to Sehun’s vanity.

“What?” Chanyeol asks, and the group of them are all staring at her. 

“Operation Ugly Duckling,” Baekhyun says. “It begins now.” 

“W-What?” Chanyeol asks. “Wait, am I…,” and she lowers her voice to a whisper, looking around at the rest of the girls, concerned, “am _I_ the ugly duckling?” 

“We told her it was offensive,” Junmyeon says. 

“It’s _very_ offensive,” Chanyeol screeches, and she turns to Baekhyun. “New name. _New name_.” 

“No, come on,” Baekhyun says. “It’s perfect. All our best brains were in on this operation, and we’ve got this shit down to a science.” 

Chanyeol gives the group of girls a glance. “Somehow, I doubt that.” 

“Now the _human’s_ judging us,” Yixing says, slapping a hand over her face. “I swear, I reach new lows every day in this place.” 

“You love us,” Minseok reminds her. “We are your sisters.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Yixing says, and she balls her hair up into a messy bun on top of her head. “Can we just skip to the logistics of this clusterfuck?” 

“Logistics?” Chanyeol asks, and she turns back to Baekhyun. “Please, please tell me it’s not that deep.” 

“Oh, it’s very deep,” Baekhyun says, hands on Chanyeol’s shoulders. “It is so deep, it’s gonna rock your fuckin’ world, baby.” 

“No offense,” Junmyeon says, “but this is why you get so many people thinking you want to sleep with them.” 

“And that’s a weight I have to bear,” Baekhyun says. “I am too damn sexy for my own good.” 

“Right,” Sehun says. “ _That’s_ your issue.” 

“We’re getting off-track,” Jongdae says, “as per usual.” 

“I think that’s what makes us fun,” Minseok says, shrugging her shoulders cutely. “We’ve got a good mix of dynamics.” 

“You know, I’ve never thought about it like that,” Junmyeon says, “but you’re right. Sweet.” She gestures to herself and Minseok. “Sour.” She gestures to everyone else in the room. 

“You’re not getting _dick_ for Christmas, I hope you know that,” Baekhyun threatens. 

“I don’t want dick,” Junmyeon quips. 

“Very funny,” Baekhyun praises with a smile. “I approve.”

“Can someone just tell me what the fuck is going on?” Chanyeol asks. “Why can we never have a conversation that _goes_ somewhere?” 

“Tell ‘em, honey,” Jongdae says. 

“We have a five point plan,” Baekhyun says, holding up her hand, spreading her fingers wide before gesturing solely with her thumb. “One.” She turns to Sehun, and Sehun puts her long auburn braid over her shoulder. 

“ _Toes in the water_ ,” Sehun says.

“Toes in the water entails?” Baekhyun asks. 

“Slow, long-term exposure,” Sehun elaborates. “Plenty of low-stakes group hangouts.” 

“What are our aims during these low-stakes group hangouts?” Baekhyun asks the group. 

“Make Chanyeol look good,” the group answers, and Chanyeol scoffs. 

“Two,” Baekhyun says, rounding on Junmyeon, a hand on her shoulder. 

“ _One by one_ ,” Junmyeon answers with a smile. 

“What does one by one mean, my little fish?” 

“I told you not to call her that,” Sehun says. 

“One by one,” Junmyeon interrupts, “is when we slowly, imperceptibly branch off so that Chanyeol and Jongin are alone on more and more occasions.” 

“The purpose?” Baekhyun asks. 

“More time when it is just the two of them,” Junmyeon answers, “thus deepening their connection.” 

“Three,” Baekhyun says, and she turns to Yixing, who rolls her eyes. 

“ _Paint_ ,” Yixing says. 

“Come on, play along,” Baekhyun says. “We’re going to make Chanyeol’s plight evident.” 

“Like she’s got a disease or something,” Jongdae scoffs. 

“By alluding to the fact that Chanyeol is trying to learn makeup,” Baekhyun leads, “we appeal to…” 

“We appeal to her sense of community and responsibility, and hopefully, her affection for Chanyeol,” Yixing says. “And I mean, like, good luck.”

“She’s nice, it’ll work out,” Baekhyun says. “Okay, four.” 

“Four,” Jongdae says, arms folded, “and let’s try to speed this up, okay?” 

“What’s up your snatch, bitch?” Baekhyun asks. “You’re being unnecessarily combative today.” 

They share a meaningful glance, and Chanyeol looks around as she tries to suss out if everyone is as confused as she is or whether it’s just her again. As it turns out, everyone looks at them, bewildered. 

“Four is _make or break_ ,” Minseok pipes up, breaking the strangely tense moment. Everyone looks at her, and she smiles. “At this stage, Chanyeol and Jongin will have spent enough time together to know whether or not Jongin is interested, so we get a final interest gauge on the situation.” 

“Wonderful,” Baekhyun cheers, and she turns back to Jongdae. “And assuming that all goes according to plan, and Jongin is head over fuckin’ heels for the human… step five?” 

Jongdae, interestingly enough, stays dead silent. Baekhyun quirks a brown, walks over to her with slanting, tempting hips. 

“And five?” Baekhyun asks, leaning so close to Jongdae’s mouth that Chanyeol can practically hear the words echo. 

“ _Go in for the kill_ ,” Jongdae whispers. 

Baekhyun kisses her hard, and the room bursts into groans as Baekhyun jumps into Jongdae’s lap. 

“We have to go,” Sehun says, and she starts to pack up her station with a fury unlike any other before raising her brows at Chanyeol. “What are you waiting for? They’re gonna start stripping soon.” 

“Aren’t we used to that?” Chanyeol grins, and Sehun grabs her by the forearm, dragging her out of the dressing room like a mother pulling her child from a burning building. 

As soon as the girls are out, the beaded curtain waving behind them, Chanyeol hears a fractured moan, broken into a thousand pieces, and she bites her lip to stop herself from laughing. 

“I swear to God, you think you can trust someone to run an important meeting,” Sehun says, shaking her head before nudging her hip into Chanyeol’s. “You want a beer? I think you could use one.” 

“Yeah, beer sounds good,” Chanyeol smiles.  
  


❈

Weirdly, or maybe not weirdly, Chanyeol assumes that they’re joking. Chanyeol gets to the club early the next night, and already, they are balls deep in step one. She’s running their drinks, but for some fuckin’ reason, Jongin is in the main dressing room. Baekhyun is standing in front of her, twirling her hair, and Chanyeol only barely holds back a groan.

“Be there, or be totally eviscerated by a mountain lion,” Baekhyun smiles charmingly. 

“Haven’t seen that form in a while,” Jongin laughs, and she looks around the room. “Is everyone going?” 

“Chanyeol,” Baekhyun says. “ _P.S. I Love You_ and Paul John’s on Saturday morning. You in? I’ll turn into a ram and knock you off the side of a cliff if you say no.”

Chanyeol’s stomach twists as she chances a look at Jongin who smiles encouragingly. Chanyeol feels like throwing up. 

“You’re gonna drink whisky in the morning?” Chanyeol asks. 

“You can drink whatever you want, but if we’re talking Friday into Saturday, I’m going whisky in coffee,” Baekhyun says. “Let my bowels handle the aftermath.” 

Chanyeol wrinkles her nose. “Uh, yeah, sure. I guess I’m in.” 

Baekhyun pumps her fist exaggeratedly, and she turns back to Jongin. “That’s almost everyone. Just gotta check on Nerd Alert, and we’ll be a packed house.” 

“I’ll ask Kyungsoo if you want,” Jongin says, lifting a shoulder easily. “I’m going out that way anyway.” 

“Righteous,” Baekhyun answers. “Text me what she says. I need to make sure I have enough eggs.” 

“Eggs?” Yixing says. “You promised there’d be bacon.” 

“And there will be,” Baekhyun says. “Calm your furry little head.” 

Yixing nearly snarls, and Chanyeol goes to her seat in the corner of the room before she can say something stupid to Jongin, something like _Can’t wait to see you there_ even though that’s what she feels like saying. 

The rest of the girls mull around as per usual, and Chanyeol sits there as they buzz around. She knows she has to get moving. She promises herself she’ll go… in a moment. 

“Does this really fall to me?” Yixing asks herself in the mirror, sighing exaggeratedly before she turns to Chanyeol. “What’s wrong, Chanyeol?” 

“Nothing,” Chanyeol says quickly. “Sorry, I—” 

“ _What’s wrong, Chanyeol?_ ” 

“Nothing, I-I just kind of thought they were joking about all this, and now, I’m… I dunno, I’m feeling weird about all of it,” Chanyeol says. 

“Why on God’s green luscious flat earth would you think that they were joking?” Yixing snorts. She turns, raises a brow as she looks Chanyeol over. “You should know two things by now: they’re not exactly pros at subtlety, and they are never joking about secret operations.” She turns back to her mirror, wipes a finger at the tail end of her brow. “Do you have work to do, or are you just gonna stare at me all night?” 

Chanyeol is stunned into silence, and she does indeed just sit there for longer than is strictly necessary. She can’t handle someone not liking her, though, so eventually, she leans forward, elbows on her knees. 

“H-Hey, can I ask you something?” Chanyeol asks, almost losing the nerve as soon as she’s said the words. 

“Shoot.” 

“Do you—I mean, did I _do_ something to you? Like, why do you dislike me?” 

Yixing turns to Chanyeol slowly, and not for the first time, Chanyeol is overwhelmed by her gaze. Her eyes are deep, dark, twinkling with the light of the full moon, and Chanyeol is caught, trapped like prey. She swallows thickly. 

“Listen,” Yixing says, “if I didn’t like you, you’d know it.” 

“I feel like I know it,” Chanyeol squints. 

Yixing looks her over, turns back to her vanity as she brushes through her brows. “It takes me awhile to warm up to newcomers. Don’t take it personally.” 

Chanyeol’s nose tingles like she’s about to cry, so she sniffs it away. “Okay. Sorry.” 

Yixing looks back at her, rolling her eyes. She sets her spoolie down to the table, and suddenly, she pulls Chanyeol into a furious, bone-crushing hug. 

“You’re part of the family, okay? You’re… ugh, I fucking hate saying this, but you’re, like, my _pack_ or whatever,” Yixing says. “Is that what you want to hear? Because it’s true. I wouldn’t be participating in this dumb master plan if I didn’t like you, o _kay_?” 

“Okay,” Chanyeol says to her shoulder. 

“Don’t be such a goddamn marshmallow,” Yixing says, and Chayeol can hear the hint of a smile on her face. 

“Okay,” Chanyeol promises.

“And I’m not doing anything out of the ordinary just to get you into Jongin’s pants, got it?” 

“I got it,” Chanyeol says, and she laughs. “I got it.” 

Yixing slowly releases her, goes back to shaping her brows. “Good. Now get lost, scrub.” She looks at Chanyeol, giving her a little smile. 

“I’m going, I’m going,” Chanyeol says, and she heads out of the dressing room, spirit feeling unusually heavy with purpose. 

She’s part of the _pack_.  
  


❈

Friday into Saturday, Chanyeol barely has time to adjust to the idea. On top of that, she barely has time to close her eyes before Jongdae is at the foot of her bed, draped in her cutest pajamas.

“Is that what you’re wearing?” Jongdae asks, looking her over. 

“I’m not _wearing_ anything,” Chanyeol says. “I’m going to bed.” 

“No, no, the whole idea is to coast on our mild drunkenness until we’re at Baekhyun’s, and then we take two shots apiece and fall asleep on her couch.” 

Chanyeol snorts, and she looks at Jongdae expectantly. 

“What?” Jongdae offers. 

“Aren’t you going to dress me?” 

Jongdae grins beautifully. “Thought you’d never ask. Where are your sleepy clothes?” 

“Second drawer,” Chanyeol points, and she flops back to the bed, a little dizzy with beer. 

She listens to Jongdae rifle through her sweatpants and old basketball and field hockey t-shirts before she becomes overwhelmed. Apparently. 

“Don’t you have anything that isn’t like, eight years old?” Jongdae whines. “Like, anything, _anything_ matching?” 

“I think I have a set of flannel,” Chanyeol says sleepily. 

“Flannel.” 

“Listen, I don’t want to hear it.” 

“I’m just saying.” 

“Saying what?” 

“You’re a big lesbian,” Jongdae says. 

“And you are?” 

“A bigger lesbian,” Jongdae answers, tossing the buffalo check across the room in a wave of red and black. “But I’m _cute_ about it.” The flannel lands on Chanyeol’s face, and she huffs. “Come on, get changed. We have to move if we’re gonna make it there in time.”  
  


❈

Baekhyun lives across town, but the trains start early.

“Or late,” Jongdae says, sitting in one of the empty seats. “Depending on your perspective.” 

“And our perspective is…?” 

“Late,” Jongdae smiles. 

“Ah, gotcha.” 

The train lurches on, occasionally rattling on the track like a tin can in the wind, and Jongdae rests her head on Chanyeol’s shoulder as they ride in their stupid pajamas. Chanyeol closes her eyes, rests as the streaking lights occasionally intersect the black behind her eyelids. 

“Hey.” 

Chanyeol doesn’t open her eyes, just answers. “Yeah?” 

“What do you like about Jongin?” 

“I dunno,” Chanyeol says. “She’s… well, she’s pretty.” 

“Yeah. She is.” 

“And she, uh, I dunno. She’s talented. She’s smart. She’s… she’s funny and nice. Whenever I talk to her, I feel… I feel like she’s only thinking about me.” 

Jongdae is silent, and Chanyeol reaches down, laces their hands together. 

“What’s wrong?” Chanyeol asks. 

“Nothing,” Jongdae says. 

“Tell me.” 

“It’s really nothing,” Jongdae says, and Chanyeol can hear her smile. 

Chanyeol wants to meddle, wants to push and pry like the rest of them do, but there in the middle of the empty train car at the break of day, she feels like it can, _should_ wait.

“I’m here for you,” Chanyeol says. 

“Yeah, I know,” Jongdae says. 

“If she’s mean to you—”

“Oh, _quiet_ ,” Jongdae says quickly, and she sits up, staring at Chanyeol. “Do I look like I can’t handle a one hundred and twenty pound nightmare?” 

“I didn’t say anyone’s _name_ ,” Chanyeol says. 

Jongdae’s pupils dilate, but maybe it has something to do with the lights flickering by them. 

“Neither did I,” Jongdae says, tilting her chin up. “I was talking about Minseok.” 

“I’ll tell her you said that. _Nightmare_.” 

“Don’t, I’ll feel bad,” Jongdae whines, and she flops back in her seat, head resting against Chanyeol’s shoulder once more. The tops of her wings flutter nervously behind her, and Chanyeol smells sugar. “Just… you know, I can handle myself.” 

“I know,” Chanyeol says. 

The rest of the trip is spent in silence, and Chanyeol wonders if maybe she said something wrong, if she screwed something up even with gentle ribbing. Jongdae’s never been overly sensitive before, but with certain things, Chanyeol knows… sometimes people don’t know they have a line until someone has crossed it. 

Jongdae taps her on the leg after the warning for Baekhyun’s stop, and Jongdae gets up first. Chanyeol follows her, and they stand by the door as they wait. 

“S-Still,” Jongdae says, and she braces herself by the door as the train crawls to a stop, looking back at Chanyeol with a look of special vulnerability, “it’s nice knowing you’re there.” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says. “Of course.” 

“Whenever I wanna talk?” Jongdae asks, and the doors shudder open behind her. 

“Yeah, whenever.” 

Jongdae smiles, closed-mouth and small. “Okay, cool.” She breathes in, breathes out, and she turns around, stepping out bravely onto the platform. “Let’s go get you your woman.”  
  


❈

Chanyeol feels a little goofy walking into Baekhyun’s apartment in her pajamas, but when she sees the rest of them, smiling, sleepy faces in fleece and cotton, she does not feel nearly as goofy as just a moment prior.

“Grab a drink,” Minseok says from the couch, and she points towards the little bar cart by the kitchen, silver and mirrored and stocked with anything she could possibly want. “We’re doing mimosas in the kitchen, if you’re interested.” 

“There’s beer in here, Chanyeol,” Yixing’s voice says, and she sticks her head out from the kitchen. “Let’s move.” 

“I’m gonna grab one of those,” Chanyeol says, and she thumbs to Jongdae. “Mimosa? Beer? 7&7?” 

Jongdae looks around the room, attempting to look inconspicuous but missing it by a country mile. 

“Where’s the dragon?” Jongdae asks. 

“In her bedroom,” Sehun says, “and you’re not invited.” 

“Oh yeah? Says who?” Jongdae says defiantly. 

“All of us,” Minseok laughs. “The collective _we_.” 

“And why not?” 

“Would you not just immediately take her to bone city?” Chanyeol asks. 

“ _Bone city_ ,” Jongdae scoffs. “You’ve been hanging out with these bitches for too long.” 

“Who’s a bitch?” 

They turn, and they see Baekhyun decked out like she’s going to the fucking Met Gala if the theme was boudoir extravaganza. Her hair is set in beautiful pin curls that cascade down around her shoulders. Her chiffon robe is white and transparent, lined with puffy white marabou feathers. Her lips are pale pink, her eye makeup is sparkly gold, and she looks like she just stepped out of a bridal lingerie catalog. 

Chanyeol has no idea what’s fuckin’ going on. 

“And we’re out,” Minseok says, and she vaults off the couch like she’s in the Olympics, grabbing Sehun by the wrist and dragging her into the kitchen to hide. 

Baekhyun and Jongdae look each other over, and it is a funny sight. Baekhyun’s robe is see-through, her little butt on full display thanks to her underwear that can barely call itself underwear. On the other side of the spectrum, Jongdae is wearing a turquoise satin set dotted with yellow polka dots, furry little slippers to match. It is a striking look on its own merit, the colors of her hair and her clothes making her look a bit like sherbet. 

“Nobody said this was an event,” Jongdae snorts. 

“Mad because you wore your slippers?” Baekhyun teases, and Chanyeol fusses with the sleeves of her shirt for want of something to do. 

“Mad because I still look hotter than you?” Jongdae asks, her eyes slipping down Baekhyun’s body as if against her will. 

“Oh, baby,” Baekhyun says, and she steps forward, rubbing her thumb against Jongdae’s cheek like she’s brushing a tear away. “We both know you want it.” 

They could balance the moment on the edge of a knife, and Chanyeol doesn’t want to breathe, doesn’t want to make _any_ noise, fearing that they might turn towards her and devour her. 

Junmyeon wanders out from the kitchen, sipping at a mimosa, and she looks between the three of them. “What’s going on?” 

“S-Sexual tension, I think?” Chanyeol whispers.

“Honey, come on,” Junmyeon whispers back, and she pulls Chanyeol by the shirt collar, dragging her into the full kitchen. “Let’s get out of the blast radius.” 

The kitchen is full and dead silent when they step inside, and Yixing slaps her hand over Chanyeol’s mouth. If she was a little slower, she would have mumbled out _I wasn’t going to say anything_ , but she’s getting quicker as the days go by. The girls have a tendency of keeping her on her toes. 

“They’re all waiting,” Baekhyun whispers. “Don’t you wanna give them a show?” 

“They’re voyeurs who won’t admit to it,” Jongdae says stiffly. 

“Don’t be a See You Next Tuesday. We’ve talked. Let’s fuck. We’re good at it.” 

“This is a _party_ ,” Jongdae says. “Are you serious?” 

“I didn’t mean _now_ ,” Baekhyun says. “I meant _after_.” 

“I’m not comfortable with this energy.” 

Silent looks are exchanged between Minseok and Junmyeon, various sorts of brow raises and hand gestures. Chanyeol’s been around for a while, but she’s not good enough to translate yet. Suddenly, though, Junmyeon is pulling Sehun by the arm, swinging her back out into the living room. 

“Hey, what the f—hey, guys,” Sehun says, and finally, Yixing lets go of Chanyeol’s mouth, gives her a beer instead. 

“Thanks,” Chanyeol whispers, and she pops the tab on it much to the chagrin of the rest of the girls listening in. 

Suddenly, there is a knock on the door, splitting through everything else, and they all turn together. 

“Oh, thank fucking God,” Sehun says, and the rest of the girls stick their heads out of the kitchen to watch as she traipses by to answer it. 

“You guys are all cowards, by the way,” Jongdae says. 

“We’re not cowards,” Yixing says. 

“I’m a coward,” Chanyeol says, and it makes Yixing snort. 

“You’re angels,” Sehun says, and they all look back to the door, seeing Kyungsoo walk through in exactly what she was wearing that evening at work. 

Then, a second later, Jongin walks in. She is… _God_ , she’s perfect. 

Her hair is tied up in a bun, a few layers hanging down to frame her face, her fox ears poking up with interest. She is dressed in yoga pants and a baggy sweatshirt, and Chanyeol is confident that no one on Earth has ever been more beautiful, more effortlessly perfect. 

“Sorry we’re late,” Kyungsoo says, and she whips around, stares at Jongin. 

“Yeah, sorry,” Jongin says, and her tails curl cutely at the ends. 

“Get the girls a drink,” Sehun says, and she looks directly at Chanyeol. 

“Right, yes, of course,” Chanyeol says, and she walks off towards the kitchen, only looking behind her once she’s at the fridge. “What would you guys like?” 

“They’re making mimosas?” Jongin asks, gaze immediately going to the open bottles of champagne and juice. “Could I have one of those?” 

“Coming right up,” Chanyeol says, and with her hands full of bottles, she nods towards the refrigerator. “Beer’s in there.” 

“Great service,” Kyungsoo snorts, but she opens the door and grabs a can as Chanyeol pours the champagne. 

Their fingers brush as Chanyeol passes the red cup to Jongin, and Chanyeol does her level best not to jump back from it. Even still, even after months, she’s still totally overwhelmed by Jongin. 

“Thanks,” Jongin says sweetly. 

“No problem.” 

“Let’s get a good spot on the couch,” Jongin says, immediately moving out of the kitchen. Chanyeol wonders for a split second if that includes her, but then Jongin turns back, smiling at Chanyeol, her tails swishing. “Coming?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Chanyeol says, following behind her. 

Jongin sits down on the big stretch couch, and Chanyeol hesitates whether or not to sit next to her. Kyungsoo comes up behind her, gently nudging her forward until she sits next to Jongin, their legs pressed together, Jongin’s tails laying along their laps like a furry blanket. 

“What are you drinking?” Jongin asks, looking at the can clutched between Chanyeol’s hands. 

“Uh, beer,” Chanyeol says, and she raises it up to show Jongin. “I didn’t pick it. Yixing gave it to me.” 

“You shouldn’t get her started, you know,” Jongin says. “She’s a beer snob. She loves talking your ear off. Like, don’t bring up head. Or mouthfeel!” 

“It’ll be a struggle,” Chanyeol says. “Most of my casual conversational topics revolve around head. And mouthfeel.” 

Jongin spits out a little high-pitched cackle, immediately slapping her hand over her mouth. “Sorry.” 

“Why?” 

“That was gross,” Jongin says, and she grabs her mimosa, sips at it delicately. 

Chanyeol furrows her brow. “What was gross?” 

“My laugh,” Jongin says. “Oh my God, it’s so fucking terrible.” 

“Are you kidding?” 

“No?” 

“It’s so cute,” Chanyeol says before her brain can stop her. “It’s really cute, seriously.” 

“Please,” Jongin says, and she takes another long sip of her drink. 

“I’m being serious,” Chanyeol says, and she feels the heat flood her face. “I think it’s cute.” 

“ _Chanyeol_ ,” Jongin whines, and she rests her head onto Chanyeol’s shoulder, the single most lovely moment of Chanyeol’s life. “You’re so sweet. I love you.” 

“Are you drunk?” Chanyeol laughs. 

Jongin looks up, quirks a brow. “Didn’t I tell you? Gumihos have a pretty high t—”

“Yeah, I remember,” Chanyeol says. “Just… you’re being all—” 

“All what?” Jongin smiles. “Am I not nice normally?” 

“Shut up,” Chanyeol says, and she takes another sip of her beer, lets it bubble down and fill her stomach with butterflies. 

Chanyeol looks around, and she sees a bunch of the girls staring at them. She raises her brows like _What are you doing?_ , and they all suddenly burst into frantic, individual conversation. 

“Should we turn on the movie?” Chanyeol asks. 

Minseok looks around. “Baekhyun?” 

Baekhyun and Jongdae walk out to the living room, and she throws a remote at Junmyeon. “Handle it.” 

Baekhyun grabs Jongdae by the hand, and she leaves her off towards the bedroom. The door shuts quietly behind them. The rest of them sit in stunned silence for a moment, but then the movie begins.

Chanyeol expects to hear eager, wanton moaning, but instead, all she hears is restrained conversation, the type of talking that signals an _argument_.

No one else seems to notice, but Chanyeol keeps looking off towards the bedroom like one of them is going to set the house on fire. 

“Hey,” Jongin says, nudging her in the side. “Everything okay?” 

Chanyeol settles back into the couch. “Yeah. Fine.” 

Jongin smiles charmingly, and Chanyeol takes a sip of her beer. It will be a long morning, that she knows for sure.  
  


❈

All the girls stay over, get too drunk to leave. Baekhyun emerges from the bedroom once the movie is over, and she’s got so many blankets in her arms that Chanyeol can’t even see her upper half. Sehun takes the couch even though her feet hang off the edge, and the rest of them split the floor.

Jongdae lies down next to Chanyeol, snuggling into her warmth. 

“I’ve got an extra spot in my bed,” Baekhyun says, and Sehun practically leaves a dust cloud as she takes Baekhyun up on her offer, leaving the couch vacant. 

“Anybody mind if I take it?” Kyungsoo asks, and no one raises a reservation. “Cool.” 

Kyungsoo takes the couch, and while Jongin rests next to Chanyeol, their bodies hot to the touch, all Chanyeol can think about is Jongdae and Baekhyun.  
  


❈

On their way home, their footsteps scuffing on concrete, Chanyeol nudges Jongdae with her hand.

“No,” Jongdae says. “Focus on you. Focus on the mission.” 

“What the fuck happened with her?” Chanyeol asks. 

“We’re not talking about the dragon,” Jongdae says. “We’re never talking about the dragon. For all intents and purposes, the dragon does not exist.” 

“So she’s _the dragon_ now?” 

“You’re right,” Jongdae says. “She’s the shapeshifter, and that’s exactly what we should call her.” 

“Oh, this sounds bad,” Chanyeol says. “Tell me what’s happening.” 

“Absolutely nothing,” Jongdae says. 

“Do you really expect me to believe that?” 

Jongdae turns on her, raises up in the air on her fluttering wings. She stares down at Chanyeol, which is not exactly a normal occurrence for them, and she looks a lot meaner from this angle. 

“I expect you to stay out of it,” Jongdae says. “Clear?” 

“Crystal,” Chanyeol answers. 

Jongdae’s wings cease, and she drops to the sidewalk, brushing down the sides of her pajamas like she got them ruffled. “Good.” 

They continue walking, and Chanyeol smiles. 

“You must really like her,” Chanyeol says. 

Jongdae groans out into the afternoon air, and she turns, shoving Chanyeol with all her force. Luckily, there isn’t much of that to begin with.  
  


❈

After the party, things go back to normal for the most part. Chanyeol can tell that things aren’t _normal_ for Jongdae and Baekhyun, but at the very least, they go back to joking, sharp-edged comments that leave the rest of them laughing in the dressing room.

“Seriously,” Jongdae says, and she raises a carefully sculpted brow at Chanyeol, “don’t worry about us.” 

“It just seemed… bad,” Chanyeol says softly. 

“It always seems bad,” Sehun comments. “I keep forgetting you haven’t been here longer.” 

“Yeah, it’s every three months or so,” Yixing says. “They blow up, and then—”

“Sweet, sweet makeup sex,” Jongdae says. 

Baekhyun parts the red beaded curtain, cocking her hip. “Who said makeup sex?” 

“No one,” Chanyeol says quickly. 

“Piece of advice,” Baekhyun says, walking back to her vanity, “if you ever get in serious trouble with the law, wait until after they give you a plea bargain to confess.” 

Chanyeol’s face goes red, and she grins, looking at Jongdae.

“I want no part of this,” Jongdae says. “We’re supposed to be discussing the next group event.” 

“We’re together every night,” Chanyeol says. “Pretty much every single night.” 

“That’s good,” Baekhyun says, and she sits down at her stool, tapping her bottom lip with the end of an eyeshadow brush. “Keep talking.” 

“I’m just saying, like, maybe it’s not totally necessary to have group outings,” Chanyeol says, “considering how frequently we’re together as a group.” 

“Especially considering how frequently the group activities only mean that everyone is focused on you,” Sehun says pointedly to Baekhyun. 

“On _me_? Listen, I can’t control everyone’s focus,” Baekhyun says, holding her hands up innocently. “If I am so interesting that I demand everyone’s love, affection, and attention, then is that really my fault?” 

“Yes,” the room says. 

“You’re a drama queen who needs attention to live,” Yixing says. 

“Your ego is so big it has a gravitational pull all its own,” Minseok smiles. 

“You just… really require applause,” Junmyeon says. 

“Damn, tell me how you _really_ feel, you bitches,” Baekhyun laughs, and she goes back to her makeup. If Chanyeol was a little less perceptive, she thinks she might have missed the tension in her neck, stretching up to set her jaw tightly. 

Chanyeol waits for the rest of them to filter out for the night as their shifts begin, and she nobly disregards all the calls in her ear until it’s just the two of them. Baekhyun primps and preens, ignoring Chanyeol the way Chanyeol is ignoring everyone else. 

“If you’re here because you wanna threaten me, believe me, it won’t scare me,” Baekhyun says. 

“Why would I threaten me?” 

Baekhyun looks over, lipstick bullet unwound. She gestures to Chanyeol with it. “You, the best friend.” She points to herself with it. “Me, the excruciatingly beautiful lover.” 

“Is that what you are?” 

“Oh, _I_ see, you’re doing the reverse psychology shit,” Baekhyun says, and she turns back to her mirror, painting her lips before smacking them deliberately. “It won’t work on me, pal.” 

“I feel like it already has,” Chanyeol laughs. 

“Do you really wanna talk to me?” Baekhyun asks. “Like, is that why we’re here?” 

“I just wanna know what’s going on with the two of you,” Chanyeol says. “Is that so bad?” 

“Focus on yourself. Focus on the gumiho.” 

“That’s what Jongdae said,” Chanyeol smiles. “You guys are really alike.” 

“Maybe that’s why we work so well together,” Baekhyun smiles to herself, and then she looks over, horrified. “Pretend you didn’t hear that.” 

“Hear what?” 

“My vulnerability. My marshmallow-y center. My soft, squishy interior,” Baekhyun says, and she crunches, poking at the muscles of her stomach. “No one knows it exists.” 

“You’re joking, but I’m pretty sure _everyone_ knows it exists,” Chanyeol says. “You went out of your way to help me. You stick your nose into everyone’s business because you care so much.” 

“Don’t,” Baekhyun says. “I’m a stone cold bitch.” 

“Is that what you tell yourself?” 

“I hate this,” Baekhyun says. 

“I don’t think you mind it,” Chanyeol says. “And I honestly think, like, no matter what you guys are doing, you know what’s gonna happen at the end.” 

“We’ll fall into a star,” Baekhyun says wistfully, “and the heat of our lovemaking will collapse the universe as we know it.” 

“Is that really what you think about?” 

Baekhyun shrugs her shoulders. “Sometimes.” 

“Shouldn’t you just cut to the chase, though? Shouldn’t you just, I dunno, make an honest woman out of her?” 

“How many times has she mentioned me over the course of, oh, how many years has it been?” Baekhyun asks, eyes narrowed. 

“A-A couple,” Chanyeol says. 

“We’ve been on again, off again for as long as we’ve known each other,” Baekhyun says simply. “There is no _making an honest woman_ out of her, at least… not by my doing. We’re already too fucked up.” 

“Why?” 

“That’s just how we work.” 

“I don’t understand it at all,” Chanyeol says. “I’m sorry, I think it’s really stupid.” 

“It’s what works,” Baekhyun says. 

“Is it working, though?” Chanyeol asks. “You guys fall out every couple months? Get back together after a week or two of fighting?” She watches as Baekhyun averts her eyes. “Is that really what you want?” 

“Yeah,” Baekhyun says. “It’s what I want.” 

“Maybe you both have different desires, then,” Chanyeol says. “Because I think she wants more than… whatever it is you’re giving her.” 

Baekhyun practically snaps her neck as she shifts, her slithering black form drifting through the air. The jaws of the dragon part, and Chanyeol leans back as she lets the fireball gather in her throat, hot and amber and building, building, building. 

Chanyeol waves her hand in front of her face to clear some of the smoke. 

“What are you gonna do? Barbecue me?” Chanyeol laughs. “You’re not as scary as you think you are, and it would be a lot easier on everyone if you just stopped pretending like you don’t love her back.” 

Chanyeol stands up, walks away as the dragon takes to the air to chase after her. Chanyeol has work, and she can’t spend all hours of the day trying to force actualization on someone else.  
  


❈

Later, after all the shows have wrapped up and they’re sitting around the bar, Chanyeol is sipping on her water as Jongin appears from the back rooms looking confused.

“What’s wrong?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Yeah, why do you look like you just saw a ghost?” Yixing asks. 

“I think they prefer _phantoms_ ,” Minseok says, and Yixing reaches out, shoves her off her stool. 

“I just walked in on Jongdae and Baekhyun,” Jongin says, shell shocked as she sits next to Chanyeol. 

“Like it’s the first time,” Sehun snorts. 

“They weren’t having sex,” Jongin says, and she looks at Chanyeol. “They were _talking_. Like, not normal talking. I mean, like, they were talking about feelings.” 

Chanyeol’s heart leaps up into her throat, and the rest of the girls swarm Jongin for details. 

“Tell us everything,” Sehun says. “Start from the beginning.” 

“I was going into the closet to get a towel,” Jongin says, “and I heard voices. Their voices, but I thought _That can’t be right, they’re talking about expectations for a relationship_. And I was like _God, I don’t think Baekhyun even knows that word, let alone how to use it_.” 

“So, were you standing there by the door?” Kyungsoo asks. “Did you, like, get the details?” 

“No,” Jongin says. “I opened the door, and they both looked at me like they’d rather be caught naked.” 

“That’s surreal,” Junmyeon whispers. “I can’t believe it.” 

“I wonder what happened,” Minseok says, putting her chin in her hand. “There must have been some kind of reckoning.” 

Chanyeol looks down at her hands, smiles. She wouldn’t exactly call herself a reckoning, but it’s nice that her words have an effect sometimes. 

The rest of them move on, but Jongin seems to notice, nudges Chanyeol with her elbow. 

“Did you do something?” Jongin asks. 

“I talked to Baekhyun earlier,” Chanyeol says, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I dunno, it probably was something else.” 

“Don’t sell yourself so short,” Jongin praises. Her tails swish happily behind her, smiling as she looks at Chanyeol. “You did good.” 

“Thanks,” Chanyeol says, and she bites her lip, staring down at her reflection in the water.  
  


❈

From that point on, Jongdae and Baekhyun work as a terrifyingly capable team, seemingly orchestrating events with the deftness and subtlety of a chorus of elephants.

“Never been our strong suit,” Baekhyun says, and she throws her arm around Jongdae’s neck cheerfully. “We are bold.” 

“We are brash.” 

“And we are moving on with the plan,” Baekhyun says. “Toes are going in water.” 

“I dunno,” Chanyeol says. “I think it might be overkill at this point.” 

“What makes you say that?” Jongdae asks. “Tell us everything.” 

Baekhyun presses a kiss to Jongdae’s face, and it makes a special little blush paint across Jongdae’s face. 

“Good question, babe,” Baekhyun says. 

“Thank you, babe,” Jongdae says, and she turns, eyes locking with Baekhyun’s before they kiss furiously, passionately. 

Chanyeol looks away politely. 

“Weren’t you literally in the middle of a conversation?” Sehun asks, braiding her long hair. 

“It happens,” Chanyeol shrugs. 

“This is the new world order,” Yixing says. “Now they just make out anytime they want.” 

“Good for business.” All of them turn, see Kyungsoo leaned up against the wall next to the waving beaded curtain. “What? Sometimes I get lonely when no one’s out there before we open.” 

“What’s going on?” Jongdae says, and when Chanyeol looks back, it is apparent that they are trying to look casual. 

“Just seeing what you guys were up to,” Kyungsoo says. “Any time I come in the room, you always stop talking.” She smacks a hand across her cheek. “Do I have something on my face?” 

Chanyeol looks at Baekhyun, raising her brow like _Do something_. 

The only reason they left Kyungsoo out of the plan is because of how close she is with Jongin. Chanyeol doesn’t know whether or not it was a good idea, but Baekhyun is the one who is sort of in charge, so Chanyeol never really felt it was her place to say anything. After all, they know each other best. 

“No, we’re just talking about birthday presents,” Baekhyun smiles. 

“My birthday was two weeks ago,” Kyungsoo says. 

“Right,” Baekhyun says, “but you got another next year, right?” 

Kyungsoo narrows her eyes. “Just clue me into Operation Ugly Duckling so I can help.” 

Fear leaps into Chanyeol’s mouth as she stares wide-eyed at Baekhyun, hoping that she will say something smart, get them all out of this mess easily. 

“How do you know about Operation Ugly Duckling?” Baekhyun asks. 

“You had a manila folder at your house,” Kyungsoo shrugs. 

“That was strictly for comedy purposes.” 

“You never joke about secret missions,” Kyungsoo says. “Just tell me what it entails.” 

Baekhyun looks at Chanyeol like _What do you expect me to do?_ , before she opens her mouth and says, “Getting Chanyeol and Jongin together.” 

Chanyeol makes a sputtering, shocked sound, and Jongdae cheers raucously. 

“Don’t listen to her,” Chanyeol says. “She’s fucking crazy, she’s jus—”

“I’m in,” Kyungsoo says easily. 

“Wait, why?” 

Kyungsoo turns her warm glare on Chanyeol. “I think you would be good together.” She looks back to Baekhyun. “Just tell me what to do.” 

Heat flares bright and strong across Chanyeol’s midsection and across her cheeks. 

“We’ve got a five point plan,” Baekhyun explains. “The first is to get them comfortable with each other through low-stakes group interactions.” 

Kyungsoo scoffs. “I think you can move on.” 

“What makes you say that?” Jongdae says. “Did she say anything?” 

“She talks about Chanyeol all the time,” Kyungsoo laughs, and she looks at Chanyeol. “About how cool she is. How she wants to get to know her better.” 

“Oh my God,” Chanyeol says, burying her face in her hands. “Oh my God.” 

“Step _two_ ,” Baekhyun chants. “Step _two_.”  
  


❈

At least for Chanyeol, she can’t speak for anyone besides herself, the move to step two is a jarring one. She can’t barely breathe whenever the girls slowly drift away during after work drinks, leaving the two of them alone. If it wasn’t part of a carefully crafted plan, maybe it wouldn’t feel so staged, maybe it wouldn’t feel so awkward, but it is, so it does.

“What did you think of tonight’s show?” Jongin asks, eyes sparkling like they always do when she’s secretly asking for praise. 

“Amazing,” Chanyeol says. “Just like always.” 

“You’re not supposed to be watching,” Jongin accuses. 

“No.” 

“But you watch anyway?” Jongin says, leaning in and smiling, her tails fanned out happily behind her. 

“Always,” Chanyeol says, and she takes a sip of her beer as Jongin laughs. 

“Why’s that, huh?” Jongin teases. “Do you find me ravishing?” 

It hits a little too close to home, edges too close to the truth, and Chanyeol clears her throat, the bubbles making tears jump to her eyes. 

“Y-Yeah, I mean, you’re an amazing dancer. You’re a great performer,” Chanyeol says, and she uses the side of her thumb nail to peel the label away from the beer bottle. “You know that.” 

“I dunno, some nights I feel a little less confident.” 

“Well, if you don’t feel confident, then there’s really no hope for the rest of us.” 

Jongin laughs, goofy and high, and she leans her head against Chanyeol’s shoulder. It is another blessed little moment, and Chanyeol closes her eyes, thanks God or whoever. 

“I’m so glad we’re friends,” Jongin smiles. “You’re cool.” 

“Yeah, you’re cool too,” Chanyeol says, and she’s never meant anything more.  
  


❈

They set up another get together, this time at Chanyeol and Jongdae’s place on a Sunday that the club is closed. They clean the apartment top to bottom, leaving no stone unturned, no square inch unscrubbed. Chanyeol is overwhelmed by the possibility, even though logically, this should be less stressful than the first time they hung out together. Strangely, it feels higher stakes, almost as though because they’re better friends, there’s more room to fuck things up.

“Don’t worry,” Jongdae says, massaging Chanyeol’s shoulders as she floats in the air. “You got this.” 

“I got this,” Chanyeol says. 

“We’re there to rescue you if you start drowning,” Jongdae assures her. 

“Right.” 

“You got this,” Jongdae reminds her. 

“I got this.” 

When the girls start pouring in, however, Chanyeol is forced to admit that she absolutely does not got it. Baekhyun told everyone to don 90s futurewear for their _Zenon_ party, and Chanyeol thought that was a cute idea. Of course, she wasn’t completely aware of the effect that Jongin in metallic lycra would have on her. 

“Hey,” Jongin says, hair tied into space buns, her little fox ears poking out in front of them. She looks around, eyes wide. “Wow, it looks great.” 

“Like it looked like shit last time,” Jongdae says, vaguely offended. 

“Cetus Lupeetus, watch your language, _babe_ ,” Baekhyun says, and she kisses Jongdae hard on the mouth before pulling her away from the door. “We’ve got drinks to pour.” 

“Y-Yeah, uh, we cleaned up a bit,” Chanyeol says, adjusting her t-shirt. 

“I didn’t mean, ah just… last time, it was fine, I just meant _wow_ , it looks good,” Jongin says, and she sticks out her tongue. “Blah. My mouth is dry. Is it hot in here or is it just me?” 

“I could turn the thermostat down?” Chanyeol offers. 

“ _Don’t you fucking touch it_ ,” Jongdae sings sweetly, her voice ringing out from the kitchen. 

“Sorry,” Chanyeol says. “I-I could get you a drink, though?” 

“That would be great,” Jongin says, and her tails swish behind her as they walk to the kitchen. “What are we having?” 

“I think they’re doing—” 

“It’s called _Space Punch_ ,” Baekhyun says. “We’re not clever, but it’s got rum, vodka, tequila, and blue curacao, so it’ll knock you on your ass.” 

“Unlikely, but I will give it a shot,” Jongin smiles, and she grabs one of the cups, staring at it. “Why is it glittery?” 

“Oh, well… that’s because we put glitter in it,” Jongdae smiles. 

“Like, the edible kind,” Chanyeol clarifies, and she checks back with the Wonder Twins for confirmation. “It is edible, right?” 

“Anything is edible if you put your mind to it,” Baekhyun says. 

“And according to the FDA?” Chanyeol says.

“Food grade glitter,” Jongdae says. “Unclench.” 

Chanyeol grabs a cup, and Jongdae pours it full of shimmering blue and purple liquid. It really does sort of look like a galaxy when it’s swirling in a vortex. She looks back up at Jongin. 

“Well?” Jongin asks. “Should we toast?” 

“Sure,” Chanyeol says, and she tilts the lip of her cup towards Jongin’s. “Whatever you wanna toast to.” 

“New friends,” she says. “And getting shitfaced.” 

“Well, one of us, at least,” Chanyeol says, and Jongin smiles, tapping her cup against Chanyeol’s. 

They lift their cups at the same moment, and when the first drop hits Chanyeol’s tongue, she knows that she is going to be absolutely annihilated by the end of the night. 

“Can’t even taste the liquor, right?” Baekhyun grins. 

“No, you most certainly can,” Chanyeol says. 

“That’s my girl,” Baekhyun says, and she nods towards her cup. “Drink up, ladies. Let’s get messy.”  
  


❈

They order food around eleven, and six pizzas show up. Four are consumable.

“Why does this have ham and pineapple on it?” Sehun says, wrinkling her nose. “Where’s, like, the normal pizza?” 

“This is the normal pizza,” Jongdae says, and she attempts to hip-check Sehun out of the way. “God, why are you so big?” 

“I prefer willowy,” Sehun says. 

“You look like an _oak_ tree with those shoulders,” Baekhyun chimes from the couch, and with a sudden snapping sound accompanied by a cloud of dust, she is a chicken. 

“Oh my God,” Chanyeol snorts. “She’s a chicken.” 

“Very good,” Sehun says slowly. “Now, can you tell me what sound a _chicken_ makes?” 

“She’s not that drunk,” Jongdae says. 

“ _Cluck cluck_ ,” Chanyeol says. “Did I do good?” 

“You’re amazing,” Jongdae deadpans. “The greatest thinker of our time.” 

Chanyeol throws her head back against the couch, and she laughs up to the ceiling. She stares at the dizzying paint, wondering why everything is moving so swishy-swashy like, but when she sits up to get a second opinion, the only person still in the room… is Jongin. 

She’s dressed in a pair of comfortable-looking pajamas, light blue and cotton. Her hair is laid along her shoulder in a long braid. Chanyeol is confused, and she squints. 

“W-Where’d everyone go?” 

“Home,” Jongin says. “Well, Jongdae’s in her room.” 

“W-What happened?” Chanyeol asks, whipping her head around to look. “H-Holy shit, my head hurts.” She looks around again, fully believing that maybe someone will jump out from behind something to argue with her about toppings. “What happened? W—The pizza just came.” 

“Oh, you passed out hours ago,” Jongin says. “I was tasked with making sure you didn’t choke on your vomit and die.” 

“Wait, did I—” 

“No,” Jongin smiles, “which is good news, because I sort of have this thing with throw-up.” 

“Good,” Chanyeol says. “Good, okay.” 

“You don’t feel like you’re gonna get sick, right?” 

“No,” Chanyeol says, ignoring the sinking feeling in her stomach. She can’t believe she fell asleep. She was really looking forward to it. “Sorry, I… you can go, if you want. I feel bad that they made you stay.” 

“I volunteered, actually,” Jongin smiles. 

Chanyeol leans her head back on the couch, and she and Jongin share a moment of eye contact that stretches out between them, a second adding to another to another. Maybe she will be able to blame it on the residual alcohol, the vestiges of drunkenness, so she takes every shred of time she gets, luxuriating in it. 

“Yeah?” Chanyeol asks. 

“Yeah,” Jongin smiles. “We talked a lot, actually. I didn’t wanna leave in the middle of a conversation.” 

“I… I don’t remember a lot of it,” Chanyeol says. 

“Why’d you drink so fast?” Jongin teases. 

“I drink when I get nervous,” Chanyeol admits. 

“What’s making you nervous? It’s just us.” 

Chanyeol bites her lip, closes her eyes as she huffs out a laugh. “Yeah. Just us.” 

There is another quiet moment, there in the middle of the shattering dawn, and Chanyeol struggles for something to say, for anything to break the silence. She’s always looking for that thing that will make things glide, the social WD-40, but maybe that’s her problem. Maybe she should stop trying to get past the uncomfortable. Maybe if she lets things play out through the uncomfortable… 

“Are you sure you’re not gonna get sick?” Jongin asks. 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says. “I’m sure.” 

“Maybe we should go to bed, then,” Jongin says, and she gestures to the window. Chanyeol sees the golden light of the sunrise streak through the window, and when she turns back to Jongin, her eyes are molten amber, shimmering and shining. 

“You can take my bed if you want. I owe you.” 

“For watching you?” Jongin laughs, and she stands, gives Chanyeol her hand. “Come on.” 

“What?” 

“Just come on,” Jongin says, and she sticks her hand out a little further until Chanyeol takes the hint and grabs Jongin’s hand in hers. 

Jongin leads her through the apartment back towards her bedroom, and Chanyeol isn’t sober, but she’s not _that_ drunk, not drunk enough to be imagining this, right? 

Chanyeol has several thin seconds to feel apprehension when Jongin’s hand goes to the door knob, and when they step into her room, it feels like she is looking at it for the first time. She resists the near overwhelming urge to cover Jongin’s eyes like she’s seeing something she shouldn’t. 

Jongin looks around, takes it in, and when she lets go of Chanyeol’s hand, she steps into the room proper. 

“So this is your room?” Jongin asks, and she sits on Chanyeol’s bed, tails flared up and curled like question marks at the end. 

“Ha, yep,” Chanyeol says awkwardly, “this is it.” 

“You can get changed if you want,” Jongin says, coupling it with a smile. “I won’t snoop around.” 

“That makes me think you _will_ snoop around.” 

“I’ve totally misled you then,” Jongin smiles brightly. 

“I should… brush my teeth, wash my face,” Chanyeol says, and she looks to her dresser. “Put on comfy clothes.” 

“Okay,” Jongin says, “I’ll be waiting. Right here.” 

Chanyeol grabs the first pair of sweats she can find, puts them in her arm, and she hurries to the bathroom. She is still a little dizzy when she gets there, and she stares at herself in the mirror for a few seconds before shaking herself out of it. 

Why did Jongin volunteer to stay? 

Her heart leaps at the thought, at what she feels like is the natural theoretical conclusion, but she ignores it. She brushes her teeth, washes her face, and steps into her sweatpants without thinking about it because if she _thinks_ about it, if she spends even a moment entertaining the idea, then she doesn’t know how she’ll be able to fall asleep with Jongin at her side. 

She looks at herself in the mirror, trying to convince herself that she can be normal. 

She walks back out into the bedroom, and she sees Jongin curled up in a nest of her tails. On Chanyeol’s bed. The visual alone nearly takes her out. 

“Hi,” Jongin says. “Feeling a little bit better?” 

“Yeah, lots,” Chanyeol lies. “A-Are you comfortable? Do you need anything?” 

“I’m good. Come lie down.” She pats the spot on the bed next to her. “Don’t be shy.” 

“I’m not _shy_ ,” Chanyeol lies again, and she walks over, flops down onto the bed next to Jongin. It takes everything she has not to spit out a nervous laugh, and she throws her forearm over her eyes. “See.” 

“You look shy,” Jongin says. 

“Are _you_ drunk?” 

“I did drink a bit,” Jongin says. “I even got a little tipsy.” 

“And I missed it,” Chanyeol whispers, arm falling to her side as she stares at the ceiling wistfully. 

Jongin laughs softly, and she turns her body, lying on her side. Chanyeol doesn’t turn even though she wants to, even though every fiber of her being wants to turn onto her side to face Jongin. 

“I’m sure there will be another opportunity somewhere down the line,” Jongin says. 

“Not just on my account,” Chanyeol says. 

“Not all my decisions are based entirely on you,” Jongin says, and for some strange reason, that’s what makes Chanyeol turn. “What?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You’re looking at me,” Jongin smiles. 

“Yeah, is that bad?” 

“No,” Jongin says softly. “Sometimes, you don’t look at me.” 

“S-Sorry,” Chanyeol says. “It’s not…” 

“It’s okay,” Jongin says. “But we’re friends, right?” 

“Yeah, we’re friends.” 

“Okay,” Jongin smiles, and her tails tickle along Chanyeol’s forearms. “Good.” 

They speak so quietly now, Chanyeol has to lean forward just to hear her. They’re so close that she can almost feel Jongin’s breath against her mouth. 

“I was scared,” Chanyeol confesses, “when I first met you.” 

“Why?” 

“You’re kind of intimidating,” Chanyeol says. 

“What do you think of me now?” Jongin asks, and she is so open, so ready to be hurt. Chanyeol wonders if anyone could ever hurt a person so beautiful, inside and out. 

“You’re not scary,” Chanyeol says. “You’re nice.” 

“You’re still a little drunk, huh,” Jongin smiles. 

“A little.” 

“You can go to bed,” Jongin says, and she reaches out, hand on Chanyeol’s. “You don’t have to feel bad for falling asleep.” 

“I don’t wanna sleep. I wanna talk to you.” 

Jongin smiles. “I wanna talk to you too.” 

“We’re friends, right?” Chanyeol says, and tears jump to her eyes. “You like me?” 

“Yeah,” Jongin says. “I like you.” 

“We’re close, right?” 

“Yeah,” Jongin says. “We’re close.” 

“Okay,” Chanyeol says. “That’s good.” 

“I think so. Are you always so chatty before bed?” 

“Usually, no,” Chanyeol says. “Usually, I fall asleep really suddenly.” 

“Definitely have no evidence of that,” Jongin smiles, and Chanyeol finds it hard to keep her eyes open long enough to argue.  
  


❈

Jongin pulls Chanyeol into her dressing room the next night they’re working, and Chanyeol’s eyes go wide.

“Uh, what’s happening?” 

“Nothing,” Jongin says. “Just thought we should have a conversation.”

“A-About what?” Chanyeol asks. “I was just here for drink orders.” 

“If I tell you and I’m wrong, it’s gonna sound ridiculous,” Jongin says. “But if I’m right, then I think maybe it’ll make things uncomfortable between us.” 

Chanyeol was afraid of something like this, but the only time she ever thought it would actually happen before her is in her highly specific, highly realistic nightmares. She steels herself, ready to deny, and she swallows thickly. 

“What’s up?” 

“I think maybe the girls are trying to set us up,” Jongin says lowly. 

Chanyeol tries not to show her fear, but she’s sure that Jongin can smell it on her. 

“W-Why would you say that?” 

“I’ve seen enough special missions around here to know what one looks like,” Jongin says, “and they’re constantly putting us together. Doesn’t that seem fishy to you?” 

“Junmyeon wouldn’t like you saying that,” Chanyeol says. 

Jongin smiles, shoves Chanyeol’s shoulder back. “You know what I mean.” 

Chanyeol looks down to her boots, and she readies herself to tell the truth. She’s about to spill her guts, tell Jongin everything. 

“They do have a mission,” Chanyeol says. 

“I _knew_ it,” Jongin says, pumping her arm, her tails wagging back and forth happily. 

“B-But it was just to get us to be friends!” Chanyeol clarifies quickly, her mouth moving faster than her brain. 

As soon as the words are hanging in the air between them, she regrets speaking. She should have come clean. She should have told Jongin how she felt. She should have put herself out there for once. 

Jongin knits her brows together, looks unconvinced. _Call me on it_ , Chanyeol thinks. 

“Really?” Jongin asks. “Why all this effort for us to be friends?” 

“I, uh, I was nervous,” Chanyeol says. “Stupid, right?” 

“It’s not stupid, just… you can talk to me,” Jongin says. “You know that, right?” 

“Yeah. I know.” 

“I know people think I’m some unapproachab—” 

“I don’t think you’re unapproachable,” Chanyeol says, “not anymore, at least.” 

“Good,” Jongin says. “I want us to be close.” 

_Not as close as I want us to be_ , Chanyeol thinks. 

“Yeah,” she says. “Me too.” 

Jongin smiles, charming and beautiful and perfect, and she pulls Chanyeol into an embrace. Chanyeol shuts her eyes, lets herself drown in the warmth. 

“I can’t believe I thought they were trying to set us up,” Jongin says softly, and she buries her face in Chanyeol’s shoulder, sending zipping heat across Chanyeol’s skin. “I’m an idiot.” 

“No,” Chanyeol laughs. “You’re really smart.” 

“Don’t flatter me,” Jongin snorts, and Chanyeol tightens her arms around her, shocks out a little sound. “You’re strong.” 

“Don’t flatter _me_ ,” Chanyeol says, but eventually, she forces herself to step back. 

She’s effectively friend zoned herself.  
  


❈

She expects the plan to be left in the dust after that, but Baekhyun and Jongdae corner her at the end of the night, each grabbing one of her wrists before pulling her off to the bathroom. They sit her down on the plush little loveseat, and they stare down at her like angry parents.

“Uh, hi,” Chanyeol says. “Can I help you?” 

“You told her?” Baekhyun says. “After all this?” 

“She figured it out,” Chanyeol says. “It’s not my fault if she figured it out.” 

“You told her it was to get you two to be _friends_?” Jongdae stresses. “Like, I know we’re all gay, but _you_ are the disaster gay.” 

Chanyeol’s stomach twists as she sits there, fiddling with her hands. 

“I’m just trying to be realistic,” Chanyeol says. “A girl like me doesn’t fuck around with a girl like her.” 

“No,” Jongdae says, “no, no, no.” 

“We’re not doing this again,” Baekhyun says. 

“You will learn your worth one way or another,” Jongdae says. 

“We will shove self-love down your throat like a big, fa—” 

“Don’t finish that,” Jongdae says. 

“See, this is why I fucking love you, babe,” Baekhyun says, and she pulls Jongdae towards her, hands tight on her hips. “You _get_ me.” 

“Can I go now?” Chanyeol asks. 

“No,” Baekhyun says. “Operation Ugly Duckling is _proceeding_ as _planned_.” 

“How can you proceed with a plan that she already knows about?” 

“Oh, honey,” Jongdae says. “Does she _really_ know about it?” 

“If anything, you’ve _helped_ us,” Baekhyun says, and she leans in, places a soft kiss to the hollow of Jongdae’s throat, lips moving against Jongdae’s skin. “We’ve lulled her into a false sense of security.” 

“She thinks she’s got us,” Jongdae says, and her eyes slip shut as Baekhyun closes her lips, begins to suck a mark to Jongdae’s neck. “Oh, _God_.” 

“Please tell me you guys don’t fuck in here,” Chanyeol says. “That’s just not sanitary.” 

Baekhyun looks back at her, pulls away from Jongdae. “You’re right, you’re right.” She looks at Jongdae. “We gotta focus, babe.” 

“Yeah, babe,” Jongdae says. “Let’s get ‘em.” 

They high five, and Chanyeol stares at them, horrified. 

“Get us?” 

“Get you together,” Baekhyun shrugs. “Duh.” 

They traipse out of the bathroom hand in hand, and Chanyeol sits there for another couple minutes, just trying to collect her thoughts. In a funny sort of way, she was relieved when everything was over, when she ruined the plan all on her own. At least that way, she wouldn’t have to be hurt. She wouldn’t have to put herself out there, be vulnerable. Being honest with yourself is hard. Being honest with someone else is like chewing foil. 

Chanyeol eventually joins the rest of the girls outside as they participate in their nightly cool down. She sees Jongin, Baekhyun, and Jongdae standing in a little group, and she dutifully avoids them. By the time she’s got a drink in her hand, however, Jongdae is waving her over. She pretends not to notice, but a second later, Baekhyun is screaming her name. 

“Coming, coming,” Chanyeol says, and she walks around the bar, parks herself in front of them with a smile. “Hi.” 

“We were just talking about makeup,” Jongdae says. “Isn’t that fun?” 

“I got a new palette from Pat McGrath,” Baekhyun says. 

“Cool,” Chanyeol says. “You know I don’t really… you know, get that stuff.” 

“But you’ve been interested,” Baekhyun smiles. “Right?” 

“What?” Jongin laughs. 

“Yeah,” Jongdae says. “Chanyeol’s learning makeup.” 

“Wh—,” Chanyeol begins but Baekhyun steps on her foot. 

“Oh,” Jongin smiles, “really?” 

“No,” Chanyeol says. “Not really.” 

“Now, now,” Sehun says, and she gently nudges Chanyeol forward from behind, “let’s not be shy.” Chanyeol looks back, and she can feel the streak of panic on her face. Sehun, for her part, looks entirely confident as she holds Chanyeol by the shoulders. “She’s been asking all the girls for help.” 

“That’s so sweet,” Jongin says, and when Chanyeol looks back at her, she is wearing the most beautiful smile, same as always. “You have looked very pretty lately.” 

Chanyeol’s stomach leaps into her throat, and she struggles to get out her thanks. 

“I really think she’d benefit from a private lesson with you, though,” Sehun says, and she guides Chanyeol forward. “She really needs to work on her blending, I think.” 

“It’s really not that hard,” Jongin assures her, “especially if you’re using the right brush.” 

“Y-Yeah,” Chanyeol says. “That makes sense.” 

“I could help you,” Jongin says, raising her shoulder, “but only if you wanted.” 

“I’m sure you’re busy,” Chanyeol says. “I don’t wanna—” 

“How about tomorrow? I’ll teach you a little bit before work. You can come over and stuff! It’ll be fun.” 

“A-Are you sure?”

Jongin smiles, just as dazzling as the last and still so incredible. “What are friends for?”  
  


❈

It is terribly nerve-wracking, being in Jongin’s apartment. Everything is very pretty, even in a simple way. There are small touches of beauty everywhere, nothing ostentatious or gaudy. She has a large vase of white peonies and pale yellow ranunculus on her kitchen table, the counter is clear and uncluttered, and it smells like warm cinnamon and vanilla, an open, unlit candle sitting on the entryway table. Everything is a little reminder that Jongin is beautiful, dripping elegance and charm. Everything is a reminder that she will never deserve a person like this. She will never be the girl that Jongin should be with.

“Should I do a tour?” Jongin asks, and she quickly pulls her hair into a high ponytail, and Chanyeol is attracted to the nape of her neck, the soft, smooth skin. “Is that silly?” 

“No,” Chanyeol says. “I’d love one. I mean, if it’s okay.” 

“It’s not too big, but—” 

Jongin trails off, leads her into the apartment. They walk through the kitchen, and Chanyeol tries not to look _too_ interested, but she finds just about everything about Jongin absolutely fucking fascinating. She opens her cabinet to reveal an encyclopedic variety of loose-leaf tea, filed away in air-tight ceramic containers, chalkboard labels streaked with white. Chanyeol’s sure her eyes go large when she looks at the collection: _Masala Chai, Peach, Gunpowder Green, Rooibos, Red Fruit Hibiscus, Sencha Green, Irish Breakfast, English Breakfast, Blue Hibiscus, Limonello Herbal, Earl Grey, Mirik Darjeeling…_

“I like tea,” Jongin smiles. 

“Yeah, I can see that,” Chanyeol laughs. 

“I tried getting into coffee, but there was no amount of milk and sugar that could make it palatable for me,” Jongin says, and she braces herself against the counter, tails falling down to her legs. She folds her arms across her chest with a shrug. “Tea has more range.” 

“Maybe you just haven’t tried the right coffee yet,” Chanyeol offers. 

“Well, now I’ve sunk all this money into tea,” Jongin smiles, “so I doubt I ever will.” Chanyeol rolls her eyes, and Jongin laughs. “Come on, I’ll show you the living room.” 

Chanyeol follows where she leads, and the living room is just as pretty as the kitchen, clean and organized with hints of gold everywhere. There’s a decently sized television in front of the couch, and below that, a PlayStation 4. 

“Console,” Chanyeol scoffs. 

“I like the Sims,” Jongin says simply. “And Stardew Valley. Is that a problem?” 

“Yeah, you’re not a _real_ gamer girl,” Chanyeol teases. 

“Please tell you don’t play those war games,” Jongin says, hands tied in front of her, pleading. “Please, please.” 

“No Call of Duty.” 

“Thank God.” 

“League of Legends, Overwatch, Starcraft,” Chanyeol says proudly. “Tekken. Lots of fighting games, actually. All that shit.” 

“Ugh, your kind _disgusts_ me,” Jongin says. 

“Real gamers?” 

“ _Humans_ ,” Jongin teases.

“A human made the Sims,” Chanyeol says. 

“And a pixie made Stardew,” Jongin says. “What’s your point?” 

“Ah, I guess you’re right,” Chanyeol says. And she stares down at the little set-up, the custom sakura-skin controller. “Sometimes I let my… more competitive side win.” 

“I much prefer games where I can relax.” 

“That would be nice,” Chanyeol says. “To relax.” 

Jongin laughs. “I can teach you sometime.” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, “that would be fun.” Jongin looks at her with such lovely warmth that eventually, Chanyeol forces herself to look away. “I don’t know, though.” 

“What?” 

“You’re already teaching me makeup,” Chanyeol says. “Makes me feel guilty. I can’t show you anything.” 

“Well, maybe we could give one of your games a try,” Jongin says, nose pointed up. “Just once.” 

“That could be fun,” Chanyeol smiles. 

“But you would have to let me win.” 

“My honor simply will not allow that.” 

Jongin laughs, a high-pitched, screeching sound, and Chanyeol realizes that, for as objectively ridiculous as it is, she’s never loved another sound more. 

“Do you want pizza?” Jongin asks. 

“Chicken’s good,” Chanyeol says. 

Jongin smiles at her, so beautiful. “You’re nice.” 

“I try my best.” 

Jongin orders their dinner off her phone, and Chanyeol sits next to her, helps pick things out, and they watch reruns of an old television show from the 80s as they wait. It’s Jongin’s favorite show, she says, and Chanyeol likes to learn about things Jongin likes, so she pays close attention, laughs along with the laugh track even though those are corny and overdone. She finds herself so entertained, so enraptured by the little look into Jongin that she is surprised when the driver arrives with their food. 

The man is a vampire, Chanyeol can tell from the teeth. He gawks at Jongin, at her tails. Chanyeol wants to throttle him, or at the very least, tell him off, but the interaction is short and to the point, so there isn’t much time for confrontation. 

“It’s cool,” Jongin assures her. “I get looks.” 

“Well, it’s probably because… you know.” 

“What?” 

“You’re, like, pretty,” Chanyeol says softly. 

Jongin tilts her head to the side, appreciative. “You’re pretty too.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Wanna eat in front of the TV?” Jongin asks, kicking the door closed. 

“I-Is that okay?” Chanyeol asks. 

“Yeah, why not?” 

“Some people are very particular about, like, not eating in front of the TV. I mean, I know we… you know, at my place, but I want to be respectful of your house rules.” 

“Are you one of those people?” Jongin asks, cocking her hip to the side, the brown paper bag in her hand. 

“No,” Chanyeol says, and she smiles. “Do I _look_ like that kind of person?” 

“Not particularly, but you never know,” Jongin smiles. “Go sit. Lots of food.” 

They eat together, side by side, and their legs press against one another. Chanyeol’s never felt better than when she’s in Jongin’s company, when they are together and she feels like she doesn’t have to be anyone besides herself. Then again, she wants to be better. Wants to endeavour to deserve Jongin. 

“Should we watch something lowkey?” Jongin asks, and she grabs the remote, starts clicking through things on Netflix. “Something we can talk over?” 

It sends a little thrill through Chanyeol’s body, and she shifts in her seat. “Yeah, that sounds good.” 

She puts on a show Chanyeol’s never seen before, a random episode of a show about a group of elves trying to navigate the world, and she turns to Chanyeol after. 

“Hi,” Jongin says. 

“Hi.” 

“You’re hungry, right?” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says. “Pretty much always.” 

“Really?” Jongin says, tilting her head to the side. “Always.” 

“I eat a lot,” Chanyeol says.

“I envy you,” Jongin whispers, and she grabs a wing, tears into it messily. “I feel weird eating in front of people.” 

“Why?” 

Jongin is quiet for a moment, and they eat. She looks up to the ceiling, swallowing thickly. Chanyeol wonders _do you not feel weird eating around me? That’s a good thing, right?_

“Sometimes you wanna live up to what people think you’ll be,” Jongin says, and she wears a sad little smile. “Is that silly?” 

“No,” Chanyeol says. “I think it’s normal to, like, sometimes let what people do and say affect how you view yourself.” 

“Yeah,” Jongin says, and she scoots a little closer to Chanyeol on the couch, “like, I don’t know. I’m _not_ always ethereal and perfect, but sometimes, I just… wanna be?” 

“Yeah, of course. You just wanna—”

“Be the best possible version of yourself,” Jongin says. “And then, like, if that part falls away in a moment of frustration or anger, you have people thinking… well, who is the real person? You know?” 

“That you’re putting on an act,” Chanyeol agrees. 

“But isn’t it all an act?” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, “I think so. I mean, I think we tend towards certain things based on…” 

“Astrology?” Jongin teases. 

“Shut up,” Chanyeol says, and she shoves her shoulder into Jongin’s as she takes another bite, speaking through chewing. “I just mean, like, I think we do have a fundamental personality.” 

“What’s yours?” 

“Mine?”

“Your personality,” Jongin says. “Because I feel like I’ve got a good handle on you now, but it’s always interesting to hear what people think of themselves.” 

For some silly reason, it makes Chanyeol tense up, putting an inch or two of distance between their bodies as she resettles on the couch, legs folded up underneath her. 

“I dunno, I guess I think of myself as being… motivated by love,” Chanyeol says. “I’m competitive. Sometimes, like, I come on too strong.” 

“ _Really_ ,” Jongin says, disbelief obvious in her tone. 

“Yeah, why?” 

“Just you… when you first started working at the club, you barely spoke to me,” Jongin says. “You barely looked at me.” 

_Because I fell in love with one look. Because you were too high above me. Because you are you, I am me, and we were never supposed to be in the same sentence, let alone the same story._

“Sometimes I’m too self-conscious,” Chanyeol shrugs. “In order to keep myself from overwhelming people, I—” 

“Try and hide?” Jongin asks, tilting her head to the side. 

Her hair falls into her face, and Chanyeol bets she doesn’t even realize how beautiful she looks with such simple movements, simple grace. Chanyeol looks back at her food, eats simply to resist her urge to take the lock of Jongin’s hair and tuck it behind her ear just so she can look at her with more ease. 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says. “I guess… sometimes.” 

“Finish eating,” Jongin says. “We have a goal to accomplish, right?” 

“Right.” 

They eat in silence, letting the television fill all the silences, and when they’re finished, they throw away their trash and wash their hands at the sink. Chanyeol assumes the lesson will begin immediately, but when Jongin walks back to the living room, Chanyeol is helpless but to follow. They sit down again, and Jongin flops down happily. 

Jongin sighs, and she leans against the back of the couch, and Chanyeol follows her movement. Somehow, Jongin takes that as a sign, resting her head against Chanyeol’s shoulder. Two of her tails flop into Chanyeol’s lap, and it is a sudden surprise. Chanyeol holds herself incredibly still so as to not disturb her. They share a moment of quiet, thin and brittle, and Chanyeol tells herself she won’t be the one to break it. They rest there for a moment, and everything settles, dust and whatever else, and Chanyeol closes her eyes. 

She is a bit surprised when she hears Jongin’s voice shatter the silence. 

“Wouldn’t it be nice to find someone who, like, you could just be authentically yourself with?” Jongin asks. “Someone who understood who you really are. Someone who could, like, accept you, however you were?” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, her voice tight. “It would be really nice.” 

She closes her eyes again, tries to enjoy the peaceful moment for what it is instead of projecting on to it. They’re friends, they’re good friends, and this doesn’t have to be anything more than just a… excruciatingly nice moment. 

“I’m being selfish,” Jongin says. 

“How?” 

“You came to get your makeup done,” Jongin smiles, and she thunks her head against Chanyeol’s shoulder, the two tails in Chanyeol’s lap swishing happily. “And here I am, using you as a pillow.” 

“I don’t mind,” Chanyeol says, and it is unbelievably how true that statement is. 

“We’ll move in a minute,” Jongin promises. “Just have to let the food settle first, right?” 

“Right.” 

Chanyeol thinks she would stay there forever if Jongin wanted, curled up against each other, as close as two people could be.  
  


❈

It is a while before Jongin gets up, but Chanyeol does not mourn for the lost affection. After all, Jongin offers Chanyeol her hand before she leads Chanyeol off to the bedroom, and the whole thing seems tailor-made to absolutely annihilate her.

The room is simple, clean, and there are a few touches of incredible beauty around. Most notably, there is a row of plants by her window, a little lamp drenching them in magenta light. 

“I like plants,” Jongin says. “Growing things.” 

“I’ve never been very good at that.” 

“I’m not either,” Jongin promises. “But I’m trying to learn. It’s hard with no natural light.” 

Chanyeol nods like she understands, and she thinks that, in time, she could. She would. For Jongin. 

“Sit right there,” Jongin says, pointing to one of the two stools in front of the vanity. 

Chanyeol obeys the order, sits up as straight as she can manage, picturing Sehun in her head when she lays her hands across her lap. 

Jongin gets closer to her, scoots across the divide, and whispers, the words dancing across the small gap. “Close your eyes.” 

Chanyeol obeys the command, lids fluttering shut. It takes every ounce of restraint in her to keep her eyes closed as Jongin gets even closer, so close that Chanyeol can feel Jongin’s breath on her mouth. 

“You’d look pretty in gold, I think,” Jongin says softly, and Chanyeol bites her lip between her teeth as the brush touches her eyelid. “Now, keep in mind I’m not a professional.” 

“You’ve had a lot more practice than me,” Chanyeol whispers, and she hears Jongin’s quiet laughter. “You do your own makeup for every show, don’t you?” 

“Yeah.” The brush sweeps over her eye, begins to buff in a circle. “I don’t know. I’ve done it since I was old enough to buy my own stuff.” 

Chanyeol bites her lip again, this time when Jongin touches her cheek with her hand, turning Chanyeol’s face from side to side. 

“Open your eyes for a second,” Jongin says. Chanyeol almost wants to tell her no, that now she’s _comfortable_ this way, but she listens anyway, opens her eyes and sees Jongin studying her like she is the most important thing in the universe at that very moment. “Ah, you’re really pretty.” 

Chanyeol swallows, laughs. “No, stop.” She rubs her hand at the back of her neck as she leans back, puts a little split of space between them. 

“You are,” Jongin says. “I wouldn’t lie to you.” 

“I know you’re not, like, _lying_ ,” Chanyeol smiles, and she lets her gaze dance over the palettes of eyeshadows instead of lingering on Jongin. “Like, I get that you mean it, but—” 

“Close your eyes,” Jongin says, and Chanyeol chokes on the next word as she listens to Jongin, as she shuts her eyes once more. 

The next thing she feels is the soft pad of Jongin’s finger dabbing at the center of her eyelid, left and then right. They’re closer now, Jongin eating up all the space that Chanyeol thoughtfully gave them. 

_Why are you doing this_ , she wonders. _Don’t you know that I want to kiss you? Don’t you know that you’re too good for me?_

“You’re so funny,” Jongin says, and her voice sounds like all the sweetest things. 

“What do you mean?” Chanyeol opens her eyes, and Jongin is so close, so impossibly, recklessly close. “S-Sorry.” 

“I’m not,” Jongin says, and she brushes the tip of a thin brush right underneath Chanyeol’s brow bone, slowly, so very slowly. “I just mean… you’re a little useless.” 

Chanyeol rolls her eyes, leans back for just long enough to get herself a lungful of air. 

“Useless?” 

Jongin makes a soft noise as she reaches forward, brushing her fingertip against Chanyeol’s brow. 

“You know, when I was a kid, people made fun of me,” Jongin smiles. 

“You? W-Why would they make fun of you?” Chanyeol asks. 

“Well, I was different. Looked different. Acted different.” Jongin turns back, grabs a tube of gloss from the table. She takes the applicator out, dabs some on her finger. “People don’t always like what’s different.” 

“People are stupid,” Chanyeol says. 

Jongin looks at her, searches her eyes. Chanyeol sucks in an unsteady breath as Jongin leans forward again, her finger pressing to the center of Chanyeol’s lips. 

“Yeah, they are. But… my point is,” Jongin says, and she stares at where she bounces the tip of her finger along Chanyeol’s bottom lip, “is that you don’t have to be someone you aren’t just to make someone like you.” She flicks her gaze up to meet Chanyeol’s as she pulls back. “Someone will like you exactly how you are. No questions asked.” 

Chanyeol’s mouth is dry as she licks her lips, tastes cherries and the sweetest, most delicious kind of tension, and Jongin presses in. 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol agrees, “you’re right.” 

“Yeah,” Jongin smiles. “I am.” 

Chanyeol is completely unsure that she can trust her own vision as Jongin grows, grows, grows in front of her, tails flicking and swishing pleasantly in the air. Chanyeol very nearly leans back as Jongin leans in closer, but there is nothing that she wants more than to share the same space with Jongin, the same breath. She holds herself excruciatingly still even though every fiber of her being wants to move with the frenetic, hectic energy that builds warmly inside her stomach. Jongin pauses just an inch away from Chanyeol’s mouth, so close that Chanyeol can feel her breathe. 

“Is this okay?” Jongin asks. 

“Y-Yeah,” Chanyeol says softly. 

Jongin smiles as she puts her fingertips through Chanyeol’s hair, holding the side of Chanyeol’s face gently as she kisses her, the simple press of their lips enough to make Chanyeol feel like she could fly if she really wanted to. 

When Chanyeol opens her eyes, Jongin is smiling back at her. 

“The special operation,” Jongin says quietly. “You lied.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Why?” 

“I felt bad,” Chanyeol says. “I didn’t… it was weird. I’m weird.” 

“You’re not weird,” Jongin whispers, and she leans in again, another chaste kiss. “You’re sweet.” 

Chanyeol snorts. “D-Don’t say that to make me feel better.” 

“I’m serious. People are always so scared of me, or they _want_ something from me. Something specific,” Jongin shrugs with a smile. “I’ve never really had someone… get to know me like this. Put in so much effort just to try to win me over.” 

“I… I’m sorry.” 

“I didn’t say it because I wanted you to feel bad,” Jongin says, and she balls up a fist, punches Chanyeol softly in the shoulder before flattening her hand, kissing Chanyeol again, again. “I said it because I wanted to thank you.” 

“I don’t know how you could thank someone for something like that,” Chanyeol says. “You’re a good person. You’re smart, you’re funny, you’re beautiful. Of course I want to know you. Of course I wanted to… do all I could to be someone you liked.”

Jongin whines, furrowing her brow before she throws her arms around Chanyeol’s neck, hugging her close. 

“You didn’t have to do anything at all,” she whispers. “You just had to be you, and that was enough for me.” 

Chanyeol tightens her arms around Jongin, closes her eyes as she pulls them impossibly closer. 

“Thank you,” Chanyeol says. 

“That’s good,” Jongin praises. “We’re gonna practice that.” 

“What?” 

“Saying thank you to compliments,” Jongin says, and Chanyeol can feel the smile against her skin.

“Try me,” Chanyeol says. 

“Are you fishing?” 

Chanyeol laughs, and she puts her nose to Jongin’s hair. “A little.” 

“You’re so cute… you’re so cute, I can’t hardly believe it,” Jongin says, and she pulls back again, kisses Chanyeol sweetly. 

“Thank you,” Chanyeol whispers dumbly. 

“You’re so teachable,” Jongin smiles, and she drags Chanyeol in for another kiss and then another. “We have to go to work soon, right?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Chanyeol mutters. “I think so. 

“Until then.” The words hum along her lips, sensitive and sweet. “Let’s just stay like this.” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol agrees, thinking _for as long as we can._  
  


❈

Chanyeol floats all evening long. She is sure that she’s dreaming, that she will suddenly wake from the lovely world her subconscious has created for her. Still, she will live in the dream for as long as she possibly can, head over heels for Jongin and for what they now share.

“What’s up with you?” Sehun asks, walking through the main room, a twist in her hips. “You look happy.” 

“Nothing,” Chanyeol says. 

“Jongin kiss you or something?” Sehun jokes as she walks by, and Chanyeol nearly collapses. 

“ _No_ ,” Chanyeol says, and suddenly, she is faced with a dilemma. Is she supposed to tell them? How soon? 

That night before close, Jongin texts her: _come home with me after?_

Chanyeol can barely keep it together, thinking about what might happen after they leave together. It isn’t until they’re cleaning up after, dicking around in the dressing room, that Chanyeol realizes the issue. 

Jongdae puts her bag over her shoulder, hair tied into a cute little ponytail, and she raises her brows expectantly at Chanyeol. 

“Well?” she asks. “You coming?” 

“I think I’m actually gonna… head to the Wawa,” Chanyeol says. “Is that cool?” 

“Sure, I’ll swing by with you,” Jongdae says. “I need Gatorade.” 

Panic swims through Chanyeol’s bloodstream, and she sputters, trying to figure out how to change Jongdae’s mind. 

“There’s Gatorade at the house.” 

“You only buy the red kind,” Jongdae says. “I like the yellow kind.” 

“What kind of sociopath likes the yellow kind?” Yixing snorts. 

“Oh yeah, bitch? What’s _your_ favorite flavor?” 

“Blue,” Yixing says. “Because I’m normal.” 

“The original point stands,” Jongdae says. “I need Gatorade.” 

“I’m actually gonna head to my friend’s after,” Chanyeol says. 

“Your friend’s?” Jongdae asks. “You don’t have any friends.” Chanyeol scoffs. “I’m serious, though, I know all your friends.” She gestures broadly to the rest of the room. “They’re all here.” 

“Come home with me,” Baekhyun says suddenly.

“What?” 

“Come home with me,” Baekhyun offers. “We’ll sixty-nine or something.” 

Jongdae furrows her brow. “Why are you being nice to me? What do you want?” 

“I think she was clear the first time around,” Junmyeon smiles. “She wants mutual oral st—”

“Ugh, don’t be so clinical about it,” Jongdae groans, and she turns back to Chanyeol. “You sure you’re good to get home on your own?” 

“I didn’t drink any. I’m good.” 

“Righteous,” Baekhyun says, and she threads her arm around Jongdae’s neck, pulls her away. “See you assholes later. We’re gonna have sex.” 

“Like we didn’t already know that,” Sehun scoffs, but when Chanyeol looks at Jongin, she is hiding a little smile.  
  


❈

They meet a block or two away from the club, and Jongin’s tails are whipping nervously behind her, ears tilting forward and backward nervously. Chanyeol’s never seen her look so anxious, and for a second, Chanyeol thinks maybe it’s a good thing. They’ve never been on such a level playing field before.

“We should have talked about this earlier,” Jongin says. “I’m really sorry.” 

“Sorry about what? Talked about what?” 

“A-Are you okay with… maybe not telling anyone at first? As we settle in? They’re just so pushy, and I know it comes from a place of love, but I want to be with you on my own for a while, and I don’t want to have to share this with anyone else. At least, not for a week or two.” 

Chanyeol relaxes. “Please. It’s fine.” 

“Are you sure? Would it be okay with you?” Jongin asks. “I mean, I don’t want to force you into secrecy or anything, but I just feel like it would be good for us just to get—” 

“A little privacy,” Chanyeol says, smiling. “I agree.” 

“Really?” Jongin asks, eyes bright. 

“Really.” 

“I’m so glad,” Jongin says, and she takes Chanyeol by the shoulders, pulling Chanyeol’s body to hers. “C-Can we maybe stay here for a minute before we go?” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, and she puts Jongin’s back against the wall as she leans in, her mouth hesitating just an inch before Jongin’s. “If you want.” 

“Do you wanna spend the night?” Jongin asks, leaning up coyly before she shudders back. “Not like _that_ , I mean, just, you know… taking things slow!” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol laughs, feeling as though, for the first time, Jongin knows what she’s been feeling since the day they met. “We can take it slow.” 

“And we can cuddle,” Jongin says, her hands at Chanyeol’s jaw. “And we can kiss.” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol smiles. “Let’s do that.”  
  


❈

Having a secret between the two of them is fucking delicious. It’s its own type of fun. After having the girls in their business for so long, it’s fun to keep something just for the two of them. Chanyeol hesitates with Jongin’s drink before knocking on her door, biting her bottom lip between her teeth as she waits.

The door swings open slowly, and she doesn’t even _see_ Jongin, only sees her pretty hand slip out from the gap, gripping Chanyeol by the collar and pulling her inside. 

Chanyeol is pressed against the door once it’s closed, Jongin’s hands firm on her shoulders. 

“Hi,” Jongin whispers, and Chanyeol nearly loses her grip on Jongin’s glass of water. 

“Hi,” Chanyeol whispers. 

Jongin grins as she leans in, and Chanyeol has exactly one second to inhale deeply before Jongin’s mouth is on hers, kissing her sweetly. Chanyeol groans softly, racked with the desire to embrace her fully. She licks into Jongin’s mouth, makes her gasp, and once again, she is astounded by the fact that this is her real life. That Jongin is kissing her. 

She wonders if it will ever make sense. 

“Mm,” Jongin says as she pulls back, taking her glass of water from Chanyeol’s hand. “Thank you.” 

“My pleasure,” Chanyeol says, and then she squints, shaking her head. “I don’t know why I said that.” 

“Isn’t it your pleasure?” 

“Yeah, but… I don’t know, I felt like a Chick-Fil-A worker or something,” Chanyeol says. 

“Mm, chicken,” Jongin says, and she leans back in for another kiss, one that totally wipes Chanyeol’s mind of anything besides.  
  


❈

She generally kept her eyes low and respectful during Jongin’s numbers.

Now, she takes the time to stand off to the side, watching as Jongin dances, alluring and lovely, ethereal and flawless. She is slow, purposeful as she strips herself down to nearly nothing, and Chanyeol tries to keep her body temperature from rising. They don’t have a label on what they are, what they mean to each other. It’s still too early. Still, Chanyeol can’t help but imagine her body against Jongin’s, the love that they could show each other in the middle of the dark. 

Her eyes fall on Chanyeol at some points, and she gives a wry smile, one Chanyeol’s never seen her use on stage before. It feels like a piece of her persona falls away when she looks at Chanyeol, and more than anything, more than the arousal and the sex appeal and the perfection, that makes Chanyeol feel special. _That_ makes Chanyeol feel like she’s found something worth waiting for.  
  


❈

Jongin now makes a point to sit exactly one seat away from Chanyeol during their cool down drinks at the end of the night. Chanyeol likes keeping the secret. It’s illicit and cool, and Chanyeol feels like a completely different person. She’s not one for secrets, especially not from Jongdae.

“You’ve been so weirdly chill lately,” Jongdae comments. “Did you start smoking weed?” 

Chanyeol snorts on her beer, feels the bubbles invade her sinuses. 

“I’m just… you know, having a good couple of weeks,” Chanyeol says. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, and she raises her brow. “Life is good. I am feeling good about my station in life.” 

Jongdae scoffs. “Who are you, and what have you done with Chanyeol?” She turns, looks for Baekhyun. “One shot for the road, what do you say, lover of mine?” 

“Tequila or bust,” Baekhyun says. 

“Ugh, no,” Jongdae whines. “Tequila makes your dragonfire so…” 

“ _Arousing?_ ” 

“Gassy,” Jongdae clarifies. 

Something nudges into her foot, and she turns, sees Jongin walking off towards her dressing room. Normally, she would think nothing of it, but when Jongin’s tails curl at the top and she looks back through them, fur parting so that they can lock eyes, Chanyeol knows she has to get away from the bar. 

Once Jongin is clear through to the dressing rooms, Chanyeol drains what’s left of her beer and pushes her stool back from the bar. 

“Gonna go pee,” she says, and she hurries to Jongin’s dressing room, knocking softly until it swings open. 

Jongin pulls her in by the hands, a goofy smile on her face as she kisses her, kisses her long and well. Chanyeol moans into Jongin’s mouth, hands holding Jongin by the small of her waist. She turns them, puts Jongin against the door. 

“God, that was so fucking hot,” Jongin says, and she puts her hands in Chanyeol’s hair, kisses her hard. “You’re so— _hot_.” 

She slides a thigh between Chanyeol’s legs, and their bodies are tight against one another in the dim, romantic light of the dressing room. Were it not for the knock at the door that shocks them apart, Chanyeol thinks maybe they’d go someplace they’ve never gone before. Chanyeol slaps a hand over her mouth, stays as silent and unmoving as humanly possible. 

“Are you in there, Jongin?” Jongdae asks. 

“Y-Yeah,” Jongin says. “I forgot my wallet.” 

“Have you seen Chanyeol?” she asks. “I can’t find her.” 

“Check the bathrooms,” Jongin offers. “I think she was headed in there.” 

“I just _checked_ ,” Jongdae whines, but they hear the beating of her wings, flying away, and Jongin laughs. 

“That was close.” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol smiles, pressing another kiss to Jongin’s lips. “A little _too_ close.” 

“A minute more,” Jongin says, and she licks along the seam of Chanyeol’s mouth, making her whimper. “Then we’ll go.”  
  


❈

Chanyeol knew, of course, that they could never keep it going for long. They occasionally meet in Jongin’s private dressing room to kiss, and they nervously hold hands for a minute or two before work begins, but if they want to move forward at _all_ in their new relationship, then it becomes increasingly evident that they will need to let the rest of the girls know.

“I think… I think I like you a lot,” Jongin smiles with a decisive nod of her head. “So, if you want to be my girlfriend, then I think…. I think we should tell them.” 

_It’s only been a few weeks_ , Chanyeol thinks nervously. _What if something happens? What if they hate them once they’re together? What if Baekhyun and Jongdae are mad?_

“Don’t be scared,” Jongin says softly. “We’re in this together, remember.” 

It makes Chanyeol frown, surging forward to kiss Jongin quickly. It makes her leak out a small noise of surprise, the kind of sound that Chanyeol loves. 

“How could I not be scared?” Chanyeol asks. “I’m ruining Operation Ugly Duckling.” 

“You didn’t tell me _that’s_ what she called it.” Jongin shakes her head with a giggle. “You’re so agreeable.” 

“I’m learning my own worth slowly but surely.” 

Jongin smiles, gathering Chanyeol up into a hug. “Do you really think that they would be anything but _overjoyed_?” Chanyeol makes a small noise of distress. “The plan worked. We worked. They’re gonna take this as a big win, I assure you.” 

“Do you think?” 

“You’ve met Baekhyun and Jongdae before, right? They look like proud parents when they look at you,” Jongin says.

“I don’t want to think about them being my parents,” Chanyeol says. 

“Fair enough,” Jongin smiles. “But it’s a good idea to be public, right?” 

“If we’re… if we’re serious about this,” Chanyeol says. 

Jongin pulls out of the embrace, stares into Chanyeol’s eyes. Liquid bronze, molten amber. She is so beautiful, and she is Chanyeol’s. 

“I’m serious about it,” Jongin says. “Are you?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Then let’s do it together, okay?” Jongin says. “It’ll be fun.”  
  


❈

Chanyeol thrums with nervous energy all throughout their night of work. Jongin said that it was important that they put up a united front, especially with all the teasing they’re sure to receive.

“You’re fine,” Jongin says. “We got this.” 

“We got this,” Chanyeol repeats, chanting it over and over. “We got this. We got this.” 

“What’s the absolute worst that can happen?” 

“Don’t ask me that,” Chanyeol begs. “There are so many bad things that can happen.” 

“Aw, baby,” Jongin says, and she pulls Chanyeol into her arms, wave after wave of affection coaxing Chanyeol calm. “I’ll protect you from the mean ol’ dragon.” 

“Thank you,” Chanyeol whines, and it makes Jongin laugh. 

When they walk out of the dressing room, Jongin laces her fingers through Chanyeol’s, and immediately, everything else becomes window-dressing. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks or says. She’s happy. And any good friend will be happy for her, will want her to stay happy for as long as humanly possible. 

They step out into the main room, and for a moment, no one looks. Jongin clears her throat, and everyone looks. Chanyeol feels the spread of Jongin’s tails behind their bodies, fanned out and lovely. She reaches up with her free hand, tucks her hair behind her ears as they cross the room hand in hand. They only part when it comes time to sit down, and Chanyeol braces her hands on the bar as everyone sits stock still and silent. 

It’s her time. 

“I just wanted to tell everyone that Jongin and I are dating,” Chanyeol says quickly. She gestures to Baekhyun. “Can you get me a beer?” 

Just as she feared, they are dead quiet staring back at her. _Wishful thinking_ , she thinks with a smile. 

Baekhyun squints. “Excuse me?” 

Chanyeol looks to Jongin. “Um, we’re… together.” She raises her brows at Jongin, and Jongin smiles encouragingly. Chanyeol looks back to the girls, looking from face to face. “We’ve been for about two weeks, and at first we decided to keep it lowkey, but—” 

“Lowkey?” Baekhyun squints. “Low _key_?” 

She steps out from behind the bar, immediately morphs into a goat, and the goat’s legs seize quickly. Baekhyun the Goat falls to the floor, and the rest of the girls giggle. 

“Anyway, I think you all can understand why we needed a bit of time in order to settle in,” Jongin says. “Are we all okay with this?” 

There is a puff of smoke where Baekhyun the goat once laid, and she stares up from the floor, hair against the tile. 

“I guess,” she says. 

“Wait, really?” Chanyeol asks. 

“Well, wasn’t the whole point of this to get you two bumping uglies?” Baekhyun asks, and she puts a hand under her head. “I mean, the plan has undoubtedly worked. We are geniuses.” 

“Get off the floor,” Jongdae bitches. “Get up. Get up.” 

Baekhyun leaps up, walks over, and presses a kiss to Jongdae’s cheek. “I’m up, I’m up.” 

“So… so that’s it?” Chanyeol asks, looking around. “No… no more outbursts?” 

“We’re happy for you,” Junmyeon says happily, and she pushes her hair back from her shoulder. “Should we do a toast?” 

“Get that fancy champagne,” Sehun says. “Toasts should be fancy.” 

“I’m not drinking champagne,” Yixing says, and Chanyeol’s gaze goes to her thinking that perhaps she’s finally found the obstacle in their way, but Yixing holds her hands up. “Not that I’m not happy for the newlyweds or whatever, I just hate champagne. It gives me a headache.” 

“Hey, me too,” Minseok says. 

“Get animal blood then, whatever,” Baekhyun says, and she thumbs off the cork, sending it sailing up to the ceiling. “Come on, get the glasses.” 

Chanyeol watches in awe as the girls hurry to get the glasses poured, sliding flutes into Chanyeol and Jongin’s hands, fizzing happily. The group of them come together, huddling around Jongin and Chanyeol. 

“To new love,” Jongdae says, and before she knows it, the rim of her glass is tipped against the rest. 

A beautiful chiming sound rings out, lovely and true. Chanyeol looks at Jongin, her sparkling eyes, her lovely face. 

“To new love,” Jongin whispers, and she leans in, sips from Chanyeol’s lips as the rest of the girls cheer. 

They celebrate into the morning, and when it is time to go home, Chanyeol is pleasantly drunk, coasting on good feelings. They walk hand in hand to Jongin’s dressing room, open and honest and pure. Jongin grabs her bag, throws it over her shoulder. She pulls Chanyeol back into the hallway, leaning against the wall. 

“See? I told you,” Jongin says, and she puts her hands on Chanyeol’s shoulders gently, pulling her into an embrace. “No worries.” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, “honestly, it wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.” 

“That’s the spirit.” 

Jongin leans in slowly, and she smells sweet. Chanyeol closes her eyes, and she sees stars when Jongin presses her lips to Chanyeol’s. Every time feels like the first time, incredible and unbelievable and lovely. 

“Hey, bitches.” 

They spring apart from each other like they’re teenagers, and they see Sehun standing in the doorway, her arms across her chest. 

“We get enough of that with Jongdae and Baekhyun,” Sehun says, and her voice turns to a whine. “Just _please_ keep it in your pants when you’re in the club.” 

“Will do,” Jongin says, and her tails fan out happily behind her, swishing with love and affection.  
  


❈

Their first official date as a couple is when spring finally blooms around them, and they take a walk through the park. It is pleasantly warm, and Chanyeol frets over what to wear for a millisecond before she remembers Jongin’s words. She likes Chanyeol just the way she is. She doesn’t have to try to be anyone else.

She dresses comfortably, wears a sweatshirt and a loose-fitting pair of jeans, and she puts her hair up into a high pony before swiping on some chapstick and some mascara. 

Chanyeol sits on the bench as she waits for Jongin, and when she arrives, she thinks that Jongin must be from heaven or somewhere close. She’s dressed just as comfortably as Chanyeol, hair tied up into a messy bun, a slightly oversized sweatshirt swallowing her up. 

“Hi,” Jongin says nervously, and she nervously tucks a piece of hair that’s fallen from her bun behind her ear. “H-How are you?” 

“Good,” Chanyeol says. “S-Should we walk?” 

“Yeah, that might be nice,” Jongin says, and she offers Chanyeol her hand before pulling her up. She doesn’t let go of Chanyeol’s hand, only laces her fingers between Chanyeol’s. “The weather is really nice today, isn’t it?” 

“I love the snow, but… but this is really good too,” Chanyeol says. 

“Yeah. Something about walking through the park…” 

She trails off, looks around at the spread of nature. Green and lively. It’s romantic, Chanyeol realizes, very romantic, and she squeezes Jongin’s hand in hers as they walk. 

“Are you excited for the new features?” Chanyeol asks. “Sehun and Yixing’s demonstrations?” 

“Yeah,” Jongin smiles, and she squeezes Chanyeol’s hand in hers. “They always put on a nice show, it’s good to see them get the recognition they deserve.” 

“You’re so… magnanimous,” Chanyeol comments. 

“I don’t know,” Jongin shrugs. “I just… I don’t think of them as my competition or anything. We’ve never really had that spirit, you know?” She looks over, aims a beautiful smile at Chanyeol. “We’re a family, and…” 

“That’s how you wanna keep it.” 

“Yeah,” Jongin says. “Yeah, I do.” 

“That’s really… really good.” 

Jongin doesn’t say anything, just brings Chanyeol’s hand up to her mouth, presses a kiss to the back of it. It is such an intimate, lovely gesture, and Chanyeol feels her stomach flip inside her body as Jongin lowers their hands back down between their bodies, swinging as they walk. 

“Thank you,” Chanyeol says. 

“For what?” 

“This is just… this is probably the best day of my life,” Chanyeol admits. “Even though we’re just kinda walking, not doing anything, I just—”

“I know,” Jongin says. “I feel the same way.” 

“Do you?” 

Jongin pulls them to a stop, and Chanyeol stares into her eyes, warm and sparkling, overwhelmed by her beauty, her love. 

Jongin puts her hand on the back of Chanyeol’s neck, and she slowly pulls Chanyeol into a kiss, slow and sweet and much too short. When she pulls back, she licks her lips, makes Chanyeol ache for more. 

“I do,” Jongin says. 

“Do what?” 

Jongin laughs, and she pulls Chanyeol by the hand off through the park, down the winding paved walkways, further into love.  
  


❈

Jongin invites Chanyeol to her apartment after work, and they walk through the city streets together. Jongin talks excitedly about her next act, the latex body suit that she had custom made for the domination theme the whole club is working with currently.

“I honestly think you’re trying to kill me,” Chanyeol says, completely unimpressed. 

“Aw, babe, I don’t want to _kill you_ ,” Jongin simpers. “Just wanna _love_ you.” 

It never fails to fill Chanyeol head to toe with the most wonderful feeling, deep and complicated and pretty like flowering trees. She has the overwhelming urge to kiss Jongin, and she realizes that she is now _allowed_ to do that, so she immediately tugs on Jongin’s hand, surprises her with a quick kiss. 

“What’s that for?” Jongin laughs, shocked. 

“You’re just so fucking… cute,” Chanyeol says. “And cool. And perfect.” 

“Is this the honeymoon phase?” Jongin asks. “Because if this is gonna end, I’m gonna break up with you after. This better not end, okay? I want this forever.” 

Chanyeol laughs, unable to contain her excitement. 

“Me too,” Chanyeol says, and she squeezes Jongin’s hand in hers. “Me too.”  
  


❈

There’s an arcade downtown, and since Jongin said she wanted Chanyeol to pick their next date activity on their day off, Chanyeol picks the arcade. It’s old-school, still running on quarters, so Chanyeol gets a whole bag of them, hands them to Jongin with a smile.

“Are you gonna hate me if I play nothing but Mrs. Pac-Man?” Jongin asks. 

“Diversify,” Chanyeol says, and she holds her arms out as if gesturing to the pride lands. “The world is your oyster.” 

“I’m gonna stick close,” Jongin says, and her tails swish happily behind her. “Don’t mind me.” 

“Please,” Chanyeol says. “You’ll see how bad I am.” 

“Are you gonna rage quit if you lose?” Jongin asks. “I find that excruciatingly charming.” 

“You will not find it so charming the eighteenth time it happens,” Chanyeol says. “This, I promise you.” 

“Play me in that fighting game you love. Where is it?” Jongin asks, and she lets go of Chanyeol’s hand, jogging ahead and whirling around in a flood of white. The neon lights of the signs paint her red and blue and purple, and Chanyeol is struck by just how lovely Jongin is, how lucky she is to know her and _have_ her. “What?” 

“I love you,” Chanyeol says. 

Jongin rolls her eyes, and she surges forward, kissing Chanyeol quickly. 

“I love you,” Jongin says, and it sends a jolt of shock through Chanyeol’s body. Chanyeol stands there dumbly, and Jongin laughs. She takes Chanyeol’s hand in hers, submerging her in light and sound. “Come on. Tekken, babe.” 

Was it just a joke? Did she answer so quickly because she doesn’t believe Chanyeol? 

Chanyeol doesn’t know. All she knows is that Jongin is a natural, and Chanyeol hates to lose.  
  


❈

They talk when they wake up in the morning, and Chanyeol finds it easier than ever to get up at her alarm. She gets ready for the day around eleven, makes coffee and has her breakfast, gets a shower, and then calls Jongin, listens to her talk as she does menial things like laundry and chores.

None of it _feels_ menial. Everything feels brand new and sparkling gold. 

“Are you sure it doesn’t bother you?” Jongin asks. “It’s just, living alone is so annoying.” Something rustles over the phone, and Chanyeol can’t tell whether it’s because she’s moving or because she’s eating. “I don’t get my social interaction until work, and then it’s all....” 

“Sexually charged,” Chanyeol answers. 

“I’m gonna smack you when I see you,” Jongin threatens. 

Chanyeol smiles. “I get it. I get what you mean.” 

“ _Thank_ you.” A beat. “What are you up to?” 

“Just lying here,” Chanyeol says. “You?” 

“Braiding my hair,” Jongin says. “Sorry, you’re on speakerphone.” 

“That’s okay,” Chanyeol says. “All hands on deck, I understand.” 

Jongin laughs, and Chanyeol smiles when she hears it. “I can’t wait to see you later.” 

“I can’t wait to see you,” Chanyeol says, “especially…” 

“Don’t be dirty,” Jongin says. 

“Can you blame me?” Chanyeol asks. “I mean, you’re wearing—” 

“I am not a sexual object,” she says haughtily, and then she snorts. “But it’s true, I kind of love the way my tails look coming out of the latex.” 

“ _You_ love it?”

“Oh, I see how it is,” Jongin smiles. “I see exactly how it is.” 

“Do you?” Chanyeol asks. “Do you really?” 

There is a thick silence, the kind Chanyeol wishes she could cut through with her own hand, and she sits there, sharing in the song. She wonders what Jongin looks like right now. Wonders how undone she appears. Is her braid messy? Is her skin natural, shining with dew? Do her eyes beg someone to take her to bed, the way they do on stage? 

Chanyeol’s been watching, and she can’t ignore the fact that there is a solid wall of tension between them, stronger than ever, stronger with every day that passes by. 

“I do,” Jongin answers softly, the sounds practically rolling off of her lips, and Chanyeol wishes immensely in that moment that she could hold her, touch her, kiss her. “I’m really looking forward to the next time you come over.” 

“Yeah, me too,” she whispers back. 

Chanyeol shuts her eyes as she listens to Jongin discuss the music, and while she hears every single word, in a much more real way, she hears none of it, focusing entirely on the sound of her voice, the gentle inhales and exhales, the way Chanyeol could trace along her shoulders with her hands and hear those same sounds.  
  


❈

The next time they get to go out on a date, it is actually what the girls call a “Family Dinner,” which is when the club closes earlier than normal, and everyone goes out for Italian. Chanyeol folds her arms across her chest, relaxing back into the couch in Jongin’s dressing room.

“Oh, stop pouting,” Jongin says, and she wipes the makeup off her face with a cotton pad. 

“I’m not pouting.” 

“You’re pouting.” 

“Well, a _little_ ,” Chanyeol concedes. “But that’s because I was looking forward to a date with _you_.” 

“Aw, my honey,” Jongin smiles. “So sweet.” 

“Is it sweet that I want to monopolize all your time and keep you all to myself?” 

“Yes,” Jongin says. “Extremely sweet.” 

Chanyeol lets her head thunk back against the couch cushion. “At least you think that.” 

“I don’t think it, I know it,” Jongin sings. “For it is a fact of the universe.” 

Chanyeol turns, curls up on the couch. “You’re nice to me.” 

“In hopes that you will be nice to the rest of the girls despite the fact that they have essentially—well, nevermind.” 

“Nevermind what?” 

“It’s not important,” Jongin says, and a furious blush streaks across her face as she begins to manipulate her hair. 

“No, what is it?” Chanyeol asks, suddenly entertained by Jongin’s embarrassment. It’s so rare that she gets to see it, she figures she needs to jump on it. “Come on, tell me.” 

“It’s not that… it’s not important,” Jongin says, and she piles her hair up on top of her head, wrapping it up in a bun. “It’s not important, and you should just pretend that I didn’t say anything.” 

“Babe,” Chanyeol says, and her stomach tightens using the pet name, still, even still. “It’s not that big of a deal.” 

Jongin huffs, holds her head in her hands. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?” 

“Not even a little,” Chanyeol smiles. 

The curl of Jongin’s body inhales, exhales. “I just thought that tonight would be…,” and she trails off. 

“Would be… ?” 

Jongin sits up like a bolt of lightning, staring at Chanyeol like she’s decided to be filled with confidence all of a sudden. 

“Would be the time we had sex,” Jongin says, and Chanyeol’s stomach fills with an unbelievably strong wave of heat, bubbling and boiling. The blush on Jongin’s face bleeds down her neck. She lowers her head back to the desk of her vanity, and she thumps her forehead against it. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.” 

“What?” 

“I can’t believe I just said that to you,” Jongin says. “You probably think I’m—” 

“I don’t,” Chanyeol says. “I promise. If anything, I am almost certainly more disgusting than you.” 

Jongin looks up, tilting her head to the side. “Really? How?” 

“W-Well,” Chanyeol says nervously, “you know… just—” 

“Oh,” Jongin smiles, and suddenly, they are back where they belong, Jongin teasing and confident, Chanyeol nervous and stuttering. “I see.” 

“Yes, so…” 

“So, then… we’re on the same page,” Jongin smiles. “That’s good.” 

“Very good.” 

They share a look, fervent and passionate, and Chanyeol wishes that she had the gall to do what she wants to do, pull Jongin to the couch and kiss her and take off her clothes and—

There is a sharp and sudden series of knocks at the door, and Chanyeol sucks in a surprised breath, the moment broken. 

“What are you guys doing in there?” Jongdae asks through the door. 

“Fuckin’?” Baekhyun’s voice sings. 

“No,” Chanyeol groans. “Shut up.” 

“Well, let’s go,” Baekhyun says. “Our reservation is for fifteen minutes, we gotta motor.” 

Chanyeol looks at Jongin, and Jongin gives her a little shrug, a little smile. “Come on. Let’s get manicotti.”  
  


❈

Chanyeol has never been good at cooking, but she _is_ very competitive and she takes their fledgling relationship seriously. They haven’t done more than kiss and hold hands and _talk_ about sex, but on their last date, a movie date complete with pepperoni pizza, popcorn, and Raisinets, Jongin climbed into Chanyeol’s lap as they made out, and that… that felt like a move forward to Chanyeol.

She hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it since it happened, going to bed and waking up and still tasting Jongin’s chapstick and the residual sweetness of chocolate on her tongue. 

They both have the intentions, they were both clear on what would happen next, but it just keeps… not happening.

The next date, she tells herself, she will make it as clear as possible that she has intentions on moving forward, moving their relationship to the next level. 

“No, no,” Sehun says. “You’re all wrong.” 

“Explain,” Chanyeol says. 

“You have to be patient,” Sehun explains. “Half of the fun of a new relationship is the build-up. Last time I was dating someone…” 

“What was that, in your four hundred-forties?” Yixing teases.

“Bitch, shut up, I am ethereal,” Sehun says. “Anyway, last time I was dating someone, we waited until the tension was absolutely mind-numbing. It was _overwhelming_ how much we wanted each other. And once we finally let each other have it, we didn’t stop making love for three days.” 

“God, you better stop,” Baekhyun says, and she pulls at the collar of her shirt. “You’re getting me hot.” 

“That isn’t the point,” Sehun says. “The point is that it’s better to wait.” 

“Well, let’s not go _that_ far,” Jongdae says. “Baekhyun and I didn’t wait.” 

“We know,” Yixing says.

“We know,” Junmyeon whines. 

“We know,” Kyungsoo says, and they all turn to see her, head sticking through the beaded curtain. “What? I’m spying.” 

“Get out,” Sehun chants. “Get out, get out, get out!” 

Chanyeol buries her face in her hands, groaning. 

“Oh, it’s fine,” Jongdae says. “Back to the topic at hand…” 

“At hands,” Junmyeon says. 

“Ignore her,” Sehun says. “Don’t encourage her, or she’ll keep doing it.” 

“I think our relationship is as solid as a brick wall,” Baekhyun boasts. 

“Much like your skull,” Yixing comments, and Minseok snorts. “Did you like that one?” 

“I did,” Minseok smiles. “I very much did.” 

“She’s right,” Jongdae says, and she walks over, sits in Baekhyun’s lap. “If we hadn’t fucked around for a year and a half beforehand, how would I know that she likes her ass f—”

“Enough,” Chanyeol says. “Enough, please.” 

“I just don’t get those people who are like, _oh, we’re not gonna fuck until after the wedding_ ,” Baekhyun says. “Like, what are you talking about? How do you know you wanna fuck ‘em for the rest of your life if you don’t know that you’re gelling on every level?” 

Jongdae turns to her, arm around her neck. “Physical…” 

“Emotional,” Baekhyun whispers against her lips. 

“ _Spiritual_ ,” Jongdae says, and she kisses Baekhyun so softly, so _strangely_ that Chanyeol squints in confusion. 

“This is fucking weird,” Sehun says. 

“Chanyeol, take things as they come,” Junmyeon advises. 

“Make it last for as long as humanly possible,” Sehun says. 

Jongdae breaks the kiss quickly. “I think jump in the sack as soon as both parties consent.” She turns back to Baekhyun. “What do you say, do you consent?” 

“For the rest of my life,” Baekhyun says, “for the rest of this godforsaken existence.” 

“You make eternal love sound so fucking awful,” Yixing grouses, and the whole room laughs, but Chanyeol’s head swims with the advice, pulling her every which way.  
  


❈

She wonders if maybe they’ve waited too long to address the giant in the room when they settle back into comfortable, familiar making out on the couch. Chanyeol kisses Jongin like she is going to die without her, and sometimes, it really does _feel_ like that. She holds Jongin’s hips in her hands, tightens her hold whenever she feels Jongin’s tails tickling at her neck. They are in a cocoon of her fur, and Chanyeol moans into Jongin’s mouth. Jongin answers with a soft, lovely sound of her own, and _God_ , it takes almost everything in her not to pull back and ask if they can go to her bed.

When Jongin finally pulls away, her mouth is red and well-kissed, and Chanyeol has to tell her brain _no_ , you’re not allowed to pull her back into another frantic kiss. 

“I should go,” she whispers, her eyes molten amber and sparkling in the night. “I have a meeting with Kibum in the morning.” 

“Shit,” Chanyeol says, and she lets her hands skim down Jongin’s thighs as Jongin gets up. “I…” 

“I know,” Jongin says, and the words go unspoken between them. 

_It could have been tonight._

“I wish you could stay,” Chanyeol says. 

“I wish I could stay,” Jongin says. She takes Chanyeol’s hands in hers, pulls her up from the couch. Her body is long against Chanyeol’s, luxurious and kind. “Maybe… maybe this weekend.” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says. “If we can find the time.” 

She knocks her head against Jongin’s shoulder, and Jongin laughs. 

“I know, baby,” Jongin says. “I know.”  
  


❈

It is a torturous game that they are playing, and that weekend, their bodies strewn along the couch, Jongin must decide that she is going to end it.

They have work the following evening, but… the way she kisses Chanyeol, it makes her think that maybe they won’t make it. 

She pulls back from their kiss, warm amber eyes staring into Chanyeol’s. Her hair falls around them like a white waterfall, and Chanyeol brushes back some of her hair, tucks it behind her ear. 

“Hi,” Chanyeol says. 

“Hi,” Jongin says. “I love you.” 

“What?” 

Jongin smiles as she tilts her head to the side. “I said I love you.” 

“I love you too?” 

Jongin laughs, presses a dotted kiss to the center of Chanyeol’s lips. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure,” Chanyeol says, and she clears her throat, stares into Jongin’s eyes as she says it a bit more deliberately, with a bit more conviction. “I love you.” 

“Did you think I was joking?” Jongin asks. “Back in the arcade?” 

“Y-Yeah,” Chanyeol says. 

“I’m not. I wasn’t.” 

“I’m not either,” Chanyeol says. “I love you.” 

“I’m really glad,” Jongin smiles. 

Jongin hums happily as she flops down onto Chanyeol’s body, kissing her senseless. The realization of what’s just happened seeps in slowly, and as Chanyeol kisses her, she tries to put everything she feels into it, every little bit of love and passion. 

It’s never been so wonderful, it’s never felt so special, and Chanyeol licks into Jongin’s mouth, tastes her and thinks that maybe this will be something that lasts a lifetime. 

“I wanted to ask,” Jongin says breathlessly, and Chanyeol kisses down her neck, down her throat to suck a bruising mark near her collarbone. 

“Ask what?” Chanyeol asks, her lips moving aimlessly over Jongin’s skin. 

“C-Can we… Can we do something?” 

Chanyeol pulls back, and again, Jongin’s hair falls loose from her ear. Chanyeol takes it in her hand, holds it against Jongin’s face. “Sure.” 

“Can you touch me…,” and she pulls one of her tails into her hand, brushing it against Chanyeol’s forearm, “here?” 

Chanyeol nearly blacks the fuck out. 

“T-There?” Chanyeol asks, and she lets her eyes wander. 

“Don’t you wanna touch?” Jongin asks coyly, and she fans her tails out behind her body like a fucking tease. “I see you stare at them.” 

“I…I—,” Chanyeol stutters, about to apologize for letting her eyes linger, but Jongin swoops forward, captures her lips in another blistering kiss. 

“I want you to touch them,” Jongin says. “It feels so good to be pet.” 

Chanyeol whimpers against Jongin’s lips as they kiss, as Jongin snakes her tongue into Chanyeol’s mouth. The tails rest along Chanyeol’s body, along her arms and legs, and when Chanyeol moves her hands from Jongin’s hips to stroke down two of her tails, she is rewarded with the most beautiful sound she’s ever heard. 

Jongin moans, wounded as Chanyeol pets along the fur. The sound vibrates along Chanyeol’s lips, hypersensitive now. She doubles her efforts as Jongin holds Chanyeol’s face in her hands, and as they kiss, Chanyeol keeps one hand on the small of Jongin’s back, one hand stroking and petting along each of her tails. 

Jongin cries into Chanyeol’s mouth, and she feels nearly at her breaking point, the moment tailor made to rip her down to nothing. Jongin’s fingers along the column of her throat are clever and light. Each touch, each kiss is better than the last, and the brush of Jongin’s fingertips against Chanyeol’s neck make her strangle out a wounded moan of her own. 

“W-We should go to the bed,” Chanyeol suggests, and she is momentarily surprised by her own courage. She can feel the heat rise to her cheeks and her ears as Jongin stares at her, and she looks away. “If that’s okay with you.” 

“Yeah,” Jongin says, a shy little smile on her face. “I think that would be good.” 

Jongin is slow to stand up, and when she offers Chanyeol her hand, Chanyeol takes it gratefully. They fall into another kiss, bodies pressed into a thin line as they stand there, Jongin’s tails swallowing them up in a storm of softness. It feels like they’re moving through syrup as they push themselves towards the bedroom, barely taking themselves away from each other as they go. It feels a little clumsy when Jongin accidentally backs Chanyeol into the wall, but there is even something lovely about that, about each little mistake that they make together. 

Together, every mistake becomes a blessing. 

Chanyeol regretfully parts from Jongin so that she can focus enough to open the door to her bedroom, and once, she thinks she would have let this possibility overwhelm her. _Jongin is so beautiful. What if I do something she doesn’t like? What if she realizes she’s too good for me?_

Now, Chanyeol can only see the hazy red blush streaking across Jongin’s face, the sleepy smile on her face like she is waking from a daze. Chanyeol pulls her by the hand, and she takes her by the back of her neck, kissing her gently as she shuts the door behind them. Her hand slips to Jongin’s shoulder, and she presses her against the door. She licks a gasp away from her lips, lets it settle in her stomach like liquid fire. 

“Is it bad if I make sure I’m allowed to stay the night?” Jongin asks. “Will you think I’m—”

“If we… if we go any further, I don’t think I’ll ever let you leave,” Chanyeol smiles. 

Jongin gives her a fox-like grin, pulls her into another furious kiss. Their bodies are tense with anticipation, the pleasure just on the edge of their mind, and Chanyeol groans as she holds Jongin by the small of her back, her tails tickling Chanyeol all over. 

“Take off my clothes,” Jongin whispers. 

Chanyeol has seen her strip so many times, but this… this is something else. This is Chanyeol stripping her. This is them together. This is special and beautiful.

She pulls Jongin’s shirt away from her, up and over her head, and once it’s off, she takes the opportunity to stare down at all the fresh skin. It’s nothing Chanyeol hasn’t seen before, but in the quiet of her bedroom with no one else watching, Chanyeol feels like she is truly seeing Jongin for the first time. 

Jongin reaches behind her body, unhooking her bra and letting it fall to the floor. Chanyeol stands there, staring at her, letting all the beauty before her wash over her in waves. She opens her mouth to say something, but she finds her mind completely empty of complete thought. She thinks only in fragments. _Skin, warm, lovely._

“You,” Jongin says eagerly, and her hands go to the hem of Chanyeol’s sweatshirt, pulling it up over her head. 

Chanyeol doesn’t even have a moment to feel self-conscious before she is staring at Jongin staring back at her. She still has so much clothing on, her bra, her underwear, her leggings, but she feels so naked with Jongin looking at her. 

“You’re so pretty,” Jongin says, hushed and quiet before she leans back in, kissing Chanyeol gently. “God, I love you so much.” 

Chanyeol whines as she kisses Jongin again, again, as they meet over and over and over. Her bra falls away at some point, and every other time she’s ever been in a situation like this, she’s felt awkward, nervous, scared. Now, she is drenched in love. She is surrounded by Jongin’s ethereal warmth. She’ll never get tired of this feeling, the overwhelming sensation that she is coming apart, but coming back together with more than she started. 

“Put me on the bed,” Jongin whispers, and Chanyeol slowly guides her back, pushing her down by the shoulders. “Take off my—”

But Chanyeol doesn’t give her the chance to finish, hands at the waist of Jongin’s leggings, pulling enthusiastically. It makes Jongin laugh, but when she is stripped completely naked, she lets her legs splay open, tempting in all the best ways. 

“Are you going to join me?” she asks, coy as her tails surround her in a nest of white fur. 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, and she immediately shoves her leggings and her underwear to the floor, kicking them off with a flourish. 

“Very good,” Jongin grades. “Very talented.” 

“Aren’t I?” Chanyeol says. 

Jongin smiles, opens her arms wide. “Come here, baby.” 

Chanyeol crawls onto the bed, and she breathes in sharply as she holds herself over Jongin’s body. They are radiating heat like two flames burning blue, and when Jongin pulls Chanyeol to her, she is momentarily floored by the sheer warmth. She kisses Jongin with ferocity, passion, and love, gasping as the beautiful flesh before her overwhelms and consumes. 

She can feel herself wet between the legs. Jongin moans softly into Chanyeol’s mouth, and Chanyeol swallows it, feeling it settle hot in her stomach. Her skin lines with goosebumps as Jongin pushes her onto her side, as they lie there in the nest of Jongin’s tails. 

“I can’t believe we waited so long,” she gasps, and Jongin smiles against her lips. 

“I’m glad.” 

“Why?” Chanyeol wonders. 

“Because it… now I’m just so happy I got you here, I can’t think about anything else,” Jongin whispers, and she pulls Chanyeol into another perfect kiss. 

Her hands skim along Jongin’s skin, soft and smooth, and she holds Jongin by the swell of her breast, thumb brushing against Jongin’s nipple. It makes her moan into Chanyeol’s mouth, and that makes Chanyeol groan with pleasure. She touches her a bit more decisively, fingers playing against the sensitive skin, and Jongin gasps wetly. 

“F-Fuck, I—” 

“Good?” Chanyeol wonders, and she kisses down the side of Jongin’s face, begins to suck a mark to the hollow of her throat. “Does it feel good?”

“C-Chanyeol,” Jongin whines, and she holds Chanyeol by the back of her neck, fingertips pressing. “Chanyeol, please.” 

“What?” she mumbles, her lips moving against Jongin’s skin. “Does it?” 

“Yes.” 

Chanyeol gently pushes Jongin onto her back once more, kissing her way down Jongin’s body until she can close her mouth around Jongin’s nipple. She flicks the tip of her tongue along it as she sucks. The more she licks, the more sounds pour out of Jongin and the wetter she gets. She’s never gotten so hot so fast, never felt like she was ready to come with just a little kissing. 

They are thick in the heat of arousal now, and as Chanyeol kisses across Jongin’s chest, she simultaneously angles her body off to the side, petting her fingers Jongin's stomach before playing through the slickness of her cunt. She dips her fingers between the folds, and it makes Jongin whimper.

“Y-You’re so warm,” Chanyeol says, and she kisses Jongin’s breasts again because she figures if she’s got enough time to talk, she’s not doing enough with her mouth. 

“God,” Jongin groans, and she arches her back, body bowing as Chanyeol touches her clit, slipping over it with a delicate fingertip. “ _God_.” 

It is a guttural sound, pulled deep from her throat, and it makes Chanyeol moan softly, the vibrations tickling along Jongin’s skin. She touches her with purpose, with determination. She wants to make it last, but _God_ , they’ve been waiting for so long now, haven’t they? Hasn’t their whole relationship been about the build up? They’ve driven themselves so close to the edge, and now, they fall together. 

Jongin’s hips move on their own as they seek Chanyeol’s touch, and she presses with insistence when Jongin’s moans grow. It is a feedback loop, and they draw on each other’s passion, wet and hot and perfect. Chanyeol kisses down Jongin’s breastbone, fingers never ceasing as she moves down, down, down. 

“Y-You—,” Jongin says, and when Chanyeol looks up, the tip of her nose is red, the high points of her cheeks too. 

“Can I?” Chanyeol asks, mouth hovering over Jongin’s hips as she places soft, chaste kisses. “Would that be okay with you?” 

Jongin laughs sharply, her head thrown back, and all at once, a great tension is relieved. Then, she looks back down at Chanyeol, body strung tight. 

“Yeah, that’s okay with me,” Jongin says, and she puts her hand through Chanyeol’s hair, closing her eyes. “Whatever you want.” 

Chanyeol kisses across to Jongin’s other hip, licking and biting softly at the skin. It makes Jongin release another hissing laugh as Chanyeol lowers herself even further, finally licking through the wetness at Jongin’s pussy, tasting her sweetness for the first time. 

“F-Fuck,” she says, and Chanyeol pulls back, looks at the way her eyes are squeezed shut tightly.

Chanyeol goes back to work, licking and sucking at Jongin’s cunt as she writhes in pleasure, body moving on its own as she brings her legs up, thighs pressing against Chanyeol’s ears. She is surrounded by pleasure, and it drips down her lips as she kisses Jongin, letting just the tip of her tongue lick up and down, threatening at Jongin’s hole before she quickly moves back up, flicking it against Jongin’s clit. Her jaw aches a little with the repetitive movement. 

“Chanyeol,” Jongin says, and her hands in Chanyeol’s hair tighten frantically. “Chanyeol.” 

Chanyeol hums, hands on Jongin’s hips as she subjugates herself, surrounded by waving, shuddering tails. She closes her eyes, hot and desperate as she fucks Jongin with her tongue, and she feels Jongin shaking with barely restrained movement as she attempts to hold herself, hold her tails still as Chanyeol lies between her legs. 

“Please,” Jongin begs, “please, I’m—”

“What?” Chanyeol asks, and she raises her head, looks at Jongin with a wet jaw and a smile. “You wanna come?” 

“Please?” Jongin asks, whining. 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, and she streaks a hand down to rub two fingertips across her clit, making Jongin jolt back and then forward to chase the pleasure. 

Chanyeol kisses and licks and sucks, rubs her fingers in a tight little circle as Jongin moans, groans deep in her chest. Chanyeol shuts her eyes and moves her tongue deliberately, and it is a crowded feeling, a happy claustrophobia as she is surrounded and completely drenched with Jongin. She moans as Jongin sobs brokenly, her body shaking as Chanyeol brings her closer, closer to the edge, and when she finally falls off the edge, Chanyeol groans, the vibrations running across Jongin’s skin. 

It is a beautiful sound, hearing Jongin come, and Chanyeol has the vague thought that maybe she should pull back just to watch, but she keeps her mouth and her fingers on Jongin, lets her ride the cresting waves as her tails curl, as her toes curl, and she throws her head back with a strangled, wanton sound. It is delicious, and Chanyeol wants to lick it away from her mouth. 

She slows the motions to a crawl as Jongin unwinds, the tension gone, and she lifts herself up slowly, staring at Jongin. 

Jongin falls back to the bed, and Chanyeol looks over her body. She is blotched with red, sticky with sex, and Chanyeol has never seen someone look more debauched, never so utterly wracked with pleasure. She’s done her job, and she thinks she’s done it well. 

“Holy fuck,” Jongin breathes. “J-Just… just give me one moment.” 

Chanyeol laughs, and she lets her body flop down next to Jongin’s, mindful not to lay on her tails. “Don’t worry. I’m good.” 

“No, you most certainly are _not_ ,” Jongin says. “But just… one moment.” 

“As many moments as you want,” Chanyeol smiles, and she presses a kiss to Jongin’s cheek. Tastes sweat. “Mm. You’re pretty.” 

“Stop,” Jongin whines, “you’re so perfect.” 

“You’re perfect,” Chanyeol says. 

“No, you.” 

“No, _you_.” 

“Shh,” Jongin says, and she puts a hand over her eyes. “Shit. I’m still twitching.” 

“Really?” Chanyeol says excitedly, and she reaches down to touch Jongin, filthy and good. “Ha. Look at that. You are.” 

“You were very good,” Jongin says, throwing her hand away dramatically and whipping her head to the side, staring at Chanyeol. “Is that what you wanted to hear?” 

She looks into Chanyeol’s eyes, deep and meaningful, and Chanyeol thinks she could die at this moment if that was what was needed of her. 

“Only if it’s true,” Chanyeol whispers, and Jongin lets her eyes flutter shut as she closes in for a kiss. 

Chanyeol mirrors her, only hears “It’s true,” a second before she is kissed, and Jongin tastes herself on Chanyeol’s mouth. 

They kiss, and Chanyeol thinks that, even if this was the way the night ended, she could be happy. They are wrapped up in each other, sparkling with light and nerves, and she wouldn’t have it any other way, not for a fucking second. 

It is not very long, though, before Jongin whispers “Lie back,” against Chanyeol’s mouth, and she trembles with anticipation, gently falling onto her back when Jongin nudges at her shoulder. 

“You know,” Jongin says, and she kisses her way down Chanyeol’s body, “traditionally, gumihos were thought to eat human hearts.” 

“Did they?” Chanyeol asks. “Are you about to… to eat my heart?”

She makes a noise of assent, and Chanyeol’s heartbeat quickens. 

“I think… right now, I think I’d like to eat something else,” Jongin says, and she smiles against Chanyeol’s skin as Chanyeol bursts into a fit of nervous laughter. “Hey, don’t laugh. I’m trying to be smooth here, and you’re wrecking my confidence.” 

Chanyeol covers her face with her hands. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. C-Continue.” 

Suddenly, Jongin’s hands are covering her own, pulling them down to Chanyeol’s sides. 

“Watch,” Jongin says, and just like that, all the laughter is stolen from Chanyeol’s mouth, dripping down the back of her throat. 

Jongin presses her lips to Chanyeol’s stomach, a closed kiss, and Chanyeol breathes in so sharply that it makes Jongin chase the skin back. She opens her mouth against Chanyeol’s abdomen, a wet, sucking kiss that traces lower and lower. Chanyeol can barely find her breath as Jongin moves to lick along her hip bones, tracing them with the tip of her tongue. 

“Jongin,” Chanyeol whispers. “ _Jongin._ ” 

“What?” Jongin asks, and she looks up through her lashes, a smile pressed lewdly against Chanyeol’s body. She takes Chanyeol’s hand in hers, and together, their hands brush Jongin’s hair away from her face. “What do you want me to do to you?” 

“Kiss me,” Chanyeol says softly. 

“Where?” Chanyeol bites her lip, and she holds Jongin by the side of the face. “Where, baby?” 

“Lower,” Chanyeol answers. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol whines. “Please.” 

“Show me,” Jongin says, and she moves her face to kiss Chanyeol's palm. “Show me where you want it.” 

Chanyeol sucks in a labored breath as she gently guides Jongin down her body, down her abdomen. Jongin kisses, down, down, down, and Chanyeol shudders out whatever air she was holding onto as Jongin kisses across her cunt. 

“You’re so wet,” Jongin praises, and Chanyeol shudders, tries to find some relaxation as she all but thrashes in the sheets. 

“I—” 

“You’re so hot,” Jongin whispers, and the words slip across Chanyeol’s skin, so much better than she ever thought possible. “I’ve been waiting so long to do this.” 

“S-Stop,” Chanyeol laughs. 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s… because you’re so—” 

“So what?” 

“So hot,” Chanyeol gasps, and Jongin smiles as she licks at Chanyeol’s clit. 

It is a bright, sparkling heat that blooms and bursts across her chest, seeping down her body like sweat. She groans as Jongin kisses her, fists in the sheets as she desperately tries to hold herself together, the pieces of her falling apart as Jongin tears her down to nothing more than raw nerves, shivering against the open air. 

She tries to let herself enjoy the warmth as it bleeds through her, the pressure and the slickness and the hushed sounds of love, but she cannot hold herself back for long. Out of desperation, she squeezes her eyes shut, attempting to shut out at least one of her senses to keep herself from coming too quickly, but the isolated sound of Jongin’s mouth across her, wet and dripping, the sound of her own lust… it drives her fucking crazy. 

“P-Please, I’m—” 

“Yeah,” Jongin whispers. “I wanna make you come.” 

Chanyeol looks down, moaning as she makes eye contact with Jongin, her eyes liquid amber and shimmering in the light. Immediately, she is thrown into an orgasm, frenetic and shuddering. She can barely get enough air into her lungs to moan out her passion, her love. Chanyeol’s throat is tight and useless as she unfurls, unruly and untamed, and she huffs out, completely exhausted. 

Jongin bows her body, forehead pressed to Chanyeol’s thigh, and when Chanyeol looks down at her, she realizes that she’s got her hand squeezed between her legs, coming again, shaking as she too falls to the afterglow. 

“Shit,” Chanyeol curses, eyes wet. 

Jongin is smiling when she moves to rest next to Chanyeol, the tails surrounding them both. Her blush is beautiful streaked across her face, sweat lining her collarbones beautiful. Chanyeol stares at her, feels the overwhelming urge to kiss her. She rolls to face her completely, and Jongin rolls to meet her. Chanyeol presses her lips to Jongin’s. They moan softly against each other’s mouths, and Chanyeol delicately sips the sounds like she was drinking from a fountain of youth. 

Jongin falls onto her back again with a satisfied groan, and Chanyeol mirrors her, feeling as satisfied as Jongin sounds. 

“That was incredible,” Jongin breathes to the ceiling, and she turns towards Chanyeol with a smile. “You’re incredible.” 

“ _You_ are incredible,” Chanyeol says, and when Jongin scoots over into her space, she kisses her again, licking across her lips. “God, I love you.” 

“I love you.” 

“I can’t believe I’m… I can’t believe I’m here with you,” Chanyeol says. “I can’t believe I get to be here with you.” 

“Stop saying that,” Jongin laughs, and she reaches out, her hand soft against Chanyeol’s face. “I’m the lucky one.” 

“I am the lucky one.” 

“I’m gonna eat you,” Jongin says. “That’s a feature of my kind, you know.” 

“I know,” Chanyeol whispers, and she presses her lips to Jongin’s once more. “I know.”

The warmth surrounds them, an impenetrable bubble of heat. The moment stretches on, silent and sweet, and Chanyeol tries not to disturb it. She wants to keep the little moment for as long as she possibly can, so they rest in the embrace for what feels like forever. 

“We should shower,” Jongin whispers, only just breaking through the quiet. 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says. 

They fall asleep wrapped up in each other’s arms, and it feels incredibly like everything has well and truly fallen into place, like everything is so perfect that it couldn’t ever be anything but.  
  


❈

The summer falls over them in a wave, one blessing after another.

Jongin becomes a fixture in their apartment, stays most nights after work. Most nights, it isn’t a problem. They come home, have something to eat, open the windows, and fall asleep until the later morning, early afternoon. 

Some nights, though, it is a problem. 

“Don’t be horny while we’re here, we won’t be horny either,” Baekhyun says, feet kicked up on the coffee table. 

“You guys are always horny,” Jongin laughs. 

“We have had frank discussions about our sexual relationship and how it manifested before emotional, what that means for our sexuality _now_ , and how we can access new levels of ourselves so that we can give to each other more wholly,” Jongdae says, and she passes a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to Jongin before taking two over to the couch for her and Baekhyun. “See, we’re deep _and_ horny.” 

“Perfect combination,” Chanyeol grumbles. 

“Jealousy,” Baekhyun tuts. “It’s never pretty.” 

“My girlfriend thinks I’m pretty.”

“I sure do,” Jongin says, and just the picture of her, sitting on one of the kitchen chairs, white tails flared out behind her happily as she chews through her sandwich… that is a very cute picture. 

Chanyeol goes over to her, pressing a kiss to her forehead before sitting down next to her. 

When they retire for the evening, Chanyeol expects to hear plenty of sex sounds from Jongdae’s room. She is surprised to hear just the soft murmur of quiet conversation. As she lies in bed next to Jongin, she raises a brow. 

“This isn’t normal,” Chanyeol whispers. 

“No, definitely not,” Jongin says, and she pillows her arm under her head. “But it’s sweet, isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol smiles. “Kinda.” 

Jongin cuddles into her, and a gentle breeze glances over them. 

“I’m happy,” Jongin says sleepily. 

“Me too.”  
  


❈

Once July hits, the heat drips down their skin like condensation on glass. Chanyeol never takes her eyes off Jongin whenever she’s performing, dancing like Chanyeol is the only one in the room. It is an intoxicating feeling, one that keeps her drunk for hours on end.

“God, you’re so fucking _hot_ ,” Chanyeol whispers that evening. “That thing you do with your hips…”

“Oh, you like that?” Jongin teases, and she leans into Chanyeol’s arm, practically hanging off her as they sit at the bar. “I’ll be sure to experiment more with that.” 

Chanyeol makes a sound of desperation, and from across the bar, Sehun coughs loudly. The two of them look, and Sehun wears a look of disgust. 

“I liked it better when you two were pining and sad,” Yixing says. 

“You shouldn’t be hateful,” Jongin says. “That’s how you get lactic acid build up.”

“Don’t make shit up just to scare me,” Yixing says, and she goes back to her beer. “But whatever. You guys are cute, I guess.” 

“What about us?” Baekhyun asks, and she gestures to Jongdae. “Are we cute?” 

“You guys are old and married,” Sehun snorts. 

“That doesn’t mean shit,” Jongdae screeches. “We’re still cute!” 

“Fight ‘em, babe,” Baekhyun goads. “Fight for our honor.” 

Suddenly, Kibum walks out from the back rooms, and Chanyeol nearly gasps. Her hair is platinum blonde, her lips are purple, and her nails are sky blue. 

Chanyeol hadn’t even realized she was in that evening. Kibum clicks out, heels against the floor, and she looks them all over. Chanyeol is momentarily seized with fear, as though they’ve all been caught smoking weed or something. 

“Beach trip,” Kibum says, “tomorrow.” 

“What?” Baekhyun asks. 

“Did I stutter? Beach trip, tomorrow. We need volunteers for the carpool. I got a van but there’s too many of us.” 

And that is how Chanyeol ends up driving the van, chock full of the girls as they move restlessly down the highway. There is constant yammering in her ear as responsibility for the music is first given to Baekhyun, then Jongdae, then back to Baekhyun, then to Jongin at her side. 

She’s got the cruise control on, though, and there’s plenty of water to drink. Jongin has her window cracked open, and the wind ruffles through her hair. Chanyeol tries to focus on the road, but when Jongin reaches across the console, Chanyeol has no choice but to lace their fingers together, giving her a happy little squeeze. 

When they finally reach the beach, they set up umbrellas and lay out sheets. Chanyeol strips off her t-shirt, lets the sun kiss her skin. The girls dig into the coolers, begin passing out drinks, and Chanyeol watches as Baekhyun runs across the beach, jumping into the air and transforming into a flounder before she hits the water. 

“Showoff,” Jongdae scoffs, but she too joins Baekhyun in the water. 

Kibum rests in an oversized lounge chair, big floppy hat over her face as she sunbathes. The rest of the girls splash in the water, Junmyeon zipping through the water and giving the rest of them rides across the waves. Chanyeol looks back with a smile, but she sees Jongin sitting at the center of her towel with a frown. 

“Babe, what’s wrong?” 

“I feel bad. I’m not really… a fan of the water,” Jongin says, hugging her knees to her chest. 

“No?” 

“No,” Jongin says. “Sorry. I know it’s beach day and everything. If you wanna go play…” 

“Maybe in a little while,” Chanyeol says, and she lies down next to Jongin. “For now I’ll hang with you.” 

“Yeah?” Jongin smiles. 

“Yeah, babe,” Chanyeol says, and she holds her hand up to her face, blocking the sun from her view. “Love you.” 

“Love you too.”  
  


❈

At the tail end of August, Kibum hosts an end of summer barbecue at her loft, and Chanyeol is momentarily overwhelmed at the state of her complex. She must do very well for herself, because God, walking out into the summer air on the beautifully decorated roof, she is stunned. There are bulb lights lining the parapet, benches at the picnic tables lined with plush fabric, and already, the barbecue is smoking. She holds Jongin’s hand in hers, squeezing it as she steps forward, breathes in the smell of brown sugar and pepper, paprika and chile.

“God, are there ribs?” Yixing asks, gently nudging Chanyeol out of the way. “I smell ribs.” 

“There’s ribs, chicken, fish,” Kibum says, and she cracks the lid on the grill, pointing with her long, snappy tongs. “Corn. Pineapple. Sides are coming up now. There’s various salads and vegetables, and also, I made mac and cheese.” 

“Is there anything she can’t do?” Chanyeol whispers.

“No,” Jongin whispers back, “ _fear her._ ” 

“Make way, make way,” Baekhyun says, hands full with a chafing dish as she gently parts the two of them. “Let’s go, get it while it’s hot, bitches.” 

It is the best kind of communion, sitting under the starry sky with the people she loves most of all. They toast, the necks of their beer bottles clinking together, and as she lets the alcohol slip down her throat, she cannot believe how lucky she is, how wonderful it is to be alive.  
  


❈

There is a chill in the air, and Chanyeol welcomes the switch from iced coffee to regular coffee. On her way in, she often stops for coffee for herself and tea for Jongin, but once the rest of them start complaining that she’s playing favorites, she becomes the coffee girl.

“I hate this job,” Chanyeol complains. 

“Give me my frap or give me death,” Sehun grouses, making grabby hands at Chanyeol until she is obliged. “ _Thank you._ ” 

“None of you are welcome,” Chanyeol says. ‘

“You can’t even pretend like you don’t like spoiling us anymore,” Junmyeon says. “You go out of your way to do things for us.” 

“Yeah, you love us, admit it,” Minseok says, wrinkling her nose. 

“Never,” Chanyeol says, and she gives Yixing her coffee with cream. “I demand payment.” 

“Oh, you’ll get it, you’ll get it,” Yixing says. 

“Don’t threaten her,” Junmyeon says, slapping Yixing on her arm. “She’ll never give us coffee again.” 

“I’m done,” Chanyeol says, “see you bitches later.” 

“She’s going to give Jongin the what for,” Minseok says. 

“Why do you talk like you’re from the 1930s,” Yixing snorts. 

“I was reborn in the 1930s,” Minseok says. 

Chanyeol rolls her eyes, goes to Jongin’s dressing room. She knocks in that old familiar way, biting across her smile as Jongin pulls the door open for her. 

“Hey, baby,” Jongin smiles. “Missed you.” 

“You saw me earlier,” Chanyeol says, sliding the cup into her hand. 

“Yeah, and in the interim, I missed you greatly,” Jongin says, and she puts the coffee on her vanity, wiggling into Chanyeol’s embrace. “Hi, baby.” 

“I have to go,” Chanyeol whines. “I didn’t do any prep stuff yet.” 

“Let the bartenders do it,” Jongin whines, and she wraps Chanyeol up in her arms and her tails. “I wanna hug.” 

“And kiss?” 

“And kiss,” Jongin says sweetly.

Chanyeol huffs out, happy, and she hugs her close. “For a bit.” 

“That’s all I need, baby,” Jongin smiles. “You and my tea.” 

“You’re using me,” Chanyeol scoffs, and Jongin erupts into a series of high-pitched squealing giggles, the best sound Chanyeol’s ever heard.  
  


❈

Her favorite time of the year is when the leaves begin to fall, and she finds it extremely romantic to walk home with Jongin after work.

There is the prettiest amber light from the streets. They walk through the park, splitting off from Jongdae and Baekhyun and the rest. They hold hands, and Chanyeol breathes out, breathes in. Her feet are aching after standing and running all night. She can imagine this work might be exhausting after too long, but right now, it feels like exactly where she belongs. 

“Hey,” Jongin says suddenly, and it breaks up the quiet easily. 

“Hey,” Chanyeol says. “What’s up?” 

“Just wanted to say that… I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

“I really mean it,” Jongin says. “I don’t think I’ve ever meant it as much as I mean it right now.” 

Chanyeol pulls her to a stop, holds Jongin’s face in her hands as she kisses her. She tastes sweet, like a happy ending, like this time in their lives will stretch on forever if they let it. 

“We should go,” Jongin whispers, her mouth against Chanyeol’s. “We’re in public.” 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol smiles. “One minute more.” 

She pulls Jongin into another kiss, and she decides then and there that this is what she wants. Always.  
  


❈

Chanyeol walks in after Jongdae, holding the door open for her, and there is a chill running up and down her spine. She follows her, adjusting the collar on her shirt, and she is immediately accosted.

“What are you doing?” Junmyeon asks. 

“Um, coming into work,” Chanyeol says. “Wh—What are you doing?” 

There is a flurry of color and movement, and suddenly, Junmyeon is standing extremely close to her, a scarf stretched out like a rope. 

Junmyeon furiously wraps the scarf around her neck. “It’s freezing… what are you thinking, going outside without a scarf?” 

“It’s just turning cold,” Chanyeol says. “I’m big boned.” 

“You’re just big,” Jongdae scoffs, and Chanyeol turns back to Junmyeon. 

“I appreciate the concern, but we’re inside now,” Chanyeol says. 

“This isn’t just for now, it’s for whenever you go back outside, idiot,” Junmyeon says. “And happy birthday.” 

“I-It’s not my birthday,” Chanyeol says. 

Junmyeon frowns, pulls out her phone from her pocket, and she begins to swipe and tap and scroll through. “Here… November 1st. It says _Chanyeol’s birthday_.” 

“Yeah, I’m… I’m the 27th,” Chanyeol says. “Sorry.” She pets the scarf. “But this is really nice, thank you. Super thoughtful.” 

“I can’t believe… this is so embarrassing,” Junmyeon says, and she shoves her phone back into her pocket, turning with a glare. 

“Who told you it was my birthday?” 

“Baekhyun, the absolute idiot,” Junmyeon says. 

“Who said my name?” Baekhyun calls from the back hall. 

“I’m gonna drown you, bitch!” 

“Good luck, cunt, I can become a _fish_!” Baekhyun hollers. 

Junmyeon scoffs, but she turns back to Chanyeol. “Well, regardless… happy early birthday.” 

“Thank you so much,” Chanyeol says. She touches the scarf. “This was so nice.” 

“It would have been nicer on your birthday,” Junmyeon says, but she pulls Chanyeol into a hug all the same, squeezing her tightly. “Still. Love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

Chanyeol begins her work after Junmyeon disengages, and she is wiping down the bar when Jongin walks in. She bounds over, hands on the bar as she pushes herself up to kiss Chanyeol. 

“Hey, babe,” Jongin says. “Missed you.” 

“Missed you more,” Chanyeol says. “How did you sleep?” 

“Like garbage. Need you to fall asleep.” 

Chanyeol makes a soft sound of disgust, and she drags Jongin into another kiss.

“We’re gross,” Chanyeol says. 

“Yeah. I love it.” 

“Me too.” 

“Hey.” A sharp voice rings out, and Kibum sticks her head out from the back of the house. Her hair is now a vibrant lilac, styled into a smart bun. “No kissing on work time.” 

“Tell that to Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says. “And Jongdae, for that matter.” 

“Ah,” Kibum says, wagging her finger with a smile, “I like you. Remind me to give you more money.” 

She disappears back into the office hallway, and Chanyeol turns back to Jongin. “Where were we?” 

“Right about…,” Jongin starts, a hand soft against Chanyeol’s face as she leans in, their mouths just a breath away, “here.” 

Chanyeol hums as she connects them once more, a kiss so sweet she can practically taste the sugar on Jongin’s lips. 

“I should get going,” Jongin says, her tails falling flat as she bites her lip. 

“Don’t go,” Chanyeol whines. 

“I don’t wanna go.” 

“Then don’t.” 

“Okay,” Jongin says. “I’m gonna be a bartender.” 

“Fun,” Chanyeol smiles. “We can make a lot of tips by making out for people.” 

“Mm,” Jongin says. “That sounds fun.” 

“And easy.” 

“We could do it in our sleep,” Jongin says. 

“I’m not into somnophilia.” 

“Hey, lucky,” Jongin smiles. “Me neither.” 

“Lucky,” Chanyeol says. 

“Are you ever gonna get to work?” Kyungsoo wonders. 

“Mind your business,” Chanyeol says, pointing her finger, but then, she turns to Jongin. “You should start getting ready, though.” 

“I don’t _wanna_.” 

“I don’t _want you to_.” 

“Oh, for fu—get into the dressing room,” Kyungsoo orders. And she points to Chanyeol. “Clean the bar.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Chanyeol says, and she whips the towel in Kyungsoo’s direction, smiling at her. 

“Oh, bitch,” Kyungsoo says. “Watch it. Just because you’re with Jongin…”

“What, you’re gonna eat me?” 

“You should be so lucky.” 

Chanyeol goes back to her work, washing glasses and prepping for the evening. She wanders back after a while to jot down drink orders, but she finds the girls in the heat of an argument. 

“Chanyeol, Chanyeol,” Jongdae says as Chanyeol steps through the beaded curtain. “Come on, break the tie.” 

“What am I deciding?” Chanyeol asks. 

“Who’s got the best style?” Jongdae asks. “Me or Baekhyun.” 

“Style of what?” Chanyeol asks. “Getting on my fucking nerves?” 

“She’s here for _one_ year, and she thinks she can read,” Baekhyun bitches. “Okay, whore, style of _burlesque_.” 

“Well, I mean, I think Jongdae is better at individual attention,” Chanyeol says. 

“So I win,” Jongdae says. 

“Well, Baekhyun is better at working the crowd as a whole,” Chanyeol says. 

“So _I_ win,” Baekhyun says haughtily. 

“ _Well_...” 

“Oh my God, she’s no help,” Minseok snorts. 

“Just get the drinks,” Sehun says. “I want—” 

“Wine,” Chanyeol says, and she points to Baekhyun. “Wine?” 

“Wine,” Baekhyun answers. 

Chanyeol turns to Jongdae. “Wine?” 

“Wine,” Jongdae says. 

Chanyeol points at Yixing, Junmyeon, and Minseok in turn. “Beer, mojito, and vodka soda?” 

“You know us so well,” Junmyeon praises. 

“I’ve been here a while,” Chanyeol says, and as she goes to Jongin’s dressing room, it hits her that she has come a long way from a year ago. 

Jongin opens her door, and her eyes widen. “Are you okay, babe?” 

That wonderful evening so long ago, she came here single, unemployed, and without much direction. Standing there in front of Jongin, she realizes that she is in love. She has a job that she genuinely enjoys. And most importantly, she is part of something. Part of a family. 

“Yeah,” Chanyeol says, eyes wet. “Never better.” 

And she means it.  
  


❈

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed! i had a lot of fun writing this piece which is why it went on so fucking long lmao. anyway, i hope the prompter enjoyed! i rly had a blast going crazy w it klajdsljg
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/okamiwind) | [my curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/okamiwind)


End file.
